


Link Established

by Minastara



Series: Links of Fate [2]
Category: Justice League, Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons)
Genre: Multi, Telepathic Bond
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 13:45:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4182075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minastara/pseuds/Minastara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The long awaited sequel to 'Link to Justice'! The link has been established, but now a month later complications arise. OC/Superman, Same OC/J'onn, Same OC/Batman, Same OC/Flash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dreams and Complications

Disclaimer: Justice League and other DC characters don’t belong to me. The original characters such as Anyssa and the plot do belong to me so please ask before using.

Note: This is the sequel to my previous story ‘A Link To Justice’. So, if you’re just tuning in, you might want to read it first, or you might not know what’s going on. 

Special Thanks to everyone (you know who you are)for reviewing! Also thanks to everyone who read, but don’t review!

Key:

“Hi” – Speech

 _“*Hi*” -_ Speech through Link

 _‘Hi’_ \- Thoughts

Now, on with the story!

**—8—**

She could feel them.

Hands of different sizes caressing her body as she lay there on the bed. She tried to see beyond the shadows to identify her companions, but was denied. All she knew for certain was that they were all men. She wondered who they were, how did they all get to this point? She knew she should be worried, but she just couldn’t bring herself to be more concerned. As those fingers continued their effort, she let the rest of her worries slip into the fog. Some fingers moved down to her breasts, while others taunted and teased the edges of her center. Two of those fingers entered her and set a rhythm she was eager to emulate.

With each thrust, her body grew wetter, so wet in fact that she barely acknowledged the third finger’s presence. “Faster,” she pleaded, her voice sounding hoarse even to her ears, “I’m almost...” The fingers complied with her wish, drawing forth a slight moan from her. The other hands decided to join in the fun by pinching her hard nipples and laying feather touches along her inner thighs. The combination of those soft brushes and rough tweaks added to the sensations below pushed her closer to the edge. Her vaginal muscles tighten around those talented appendages and...

**—8—**

Anyssa shot up, her breath coming in fast, faint pants. She pressed her hand to her chest to try to calm her frantic breathing, only to realize that her pajama top was missing. She looked down, noting that it wasn’t the only thing missing. She looked around her and there in the tangle of her sheets laid her pajama shorts along with her panties. She gazed around her room and spotted her top, thrown in front of the closet. Her body gave another shiver, though her lack of clothing had nothing to do with it. She felt between her thigh, only to have fingers come away wet. Sighing, she got up, grabbed her pajama top from the floor, tossed it onto the bed with her bottoms, pulled the sheets along with her pajamas from the bed and dumped them in the laundry basket. She grabbed a thin robe from the closet and went to the balcony.

Though summer had just began, the windy night air helped to cool her heated skin. Standing there on her apartment balcony, gazing at the lights of Metropolis, Anyssa felt the remnants of the dream drift from her mind. Unfortunately, she had bigger things to worry about. This was the fourth time this week she’d had that dream. Not a similar dream, but that exact same dream. The first time it had startled her so bad that she had just laid there in the dampness of her sheets. It had taken her a good five minutes to calm herself down. She hoped it would end that night. No such luck. With this latest viewing, there was no getting around it.

She was going to have to talk to the Justice League, more specifically to J’onn. Now, having any contact with the League wasn’t something anybody would think about unless there was trouble, and until about a month ago she counted herself among them. That was until her not-so-extraordinary power was shocked into overdrive; psychically joining her mind to that of four members of the Justice League. Though how they made it through it was a story of its own, there was still a lot of mystery surrounding the bond. With these recurring dreams, Anyssa felt that another part of the mystery was slowly coming to light... and that terrified her. She had hoped that the bond wouldn’t expand to this degree. Heck, she still hoped it hadn’t, but a second opinion couldn’t hurt.

 _“*J’onn, are you there?*”_ she asked through their link. Even though it was late, Anyssa wasn’t surprised by the quick _“*Yes.*”_ from the Martian. He never seemed to sleep, even though he swore to her that he did.

 _“*Is there anything wrong? You’re not usually up this late,*”_ J’onn stated.

Anyssa quickly replied, _“*No, nothing’s wrong. What time is it?*”_

_“*It is 2:53 a.m. in Metropolis.*”_

_“*Really? I didn’t realize... I’m sorry for disturbing you so late.*”_

She could almost feel his head shake at her apology. _“*There is no need to apologize, gl’ae’da. I was merely sitting here watching the monitors with Hawkgirl.*”_ Anyssa couldn’t help the grimace that she knew was on her face and was happy J’onn couldn’t see it.

When she’d been introduced to the rest of the League, reactions were varied. John, the Green Lantern, had been rather indifferent, but polite, though Wally had said that they’d caught him in a good mood. Diana, Wonder Woman, had welcomed her with sisterly warmth. Shayera, Hawkgirl, was a different story. Shayera seemed to hate her from jump, which was something she did not hide very well. Wally tried to explain away Hawkgirl’s behavior as it just being her way, but she wasn’t convinced. So for the sake of peace, she stayed as far away as she could from the Thanagarian.

Alas, J’onn took her silence for what it was and tried to play mediator. _“*You should give Shayera another opportunity to get to know you. She isn’t as bad as she seems.*”_  

 _“*I’m sure,*”_ she replied, dryly. When he received no further response, J’onn wisely decided to change the subject. _“*What was it you wanted to speak with me about?*”_

That one simple question jolted Anyssa back to what drove her to seek J’onn’s counsel. “* _J’onn, something is going on. I’ve been having dreams. Dreams that are…*”_ she halted, embarrassment taking root.

 _“*Are…?*”_ J’onn prompted.

 _“*Very explicit; sexual in nature,*”_ she rushed out. She could almost see the Martian’s brow rise. _“*And? From what I understand of humans, sexual dreams are very commonplace,*”_ J’onn answered.

She could feel herself squirm under J’onn strict logic. _“*They can be commonplace, but these dreams are different. They don’t feel like they are just wet dreams. They feel like they are calling me or at least calling a part of me. Each night, each dream, takes me deeper. Tonight, I came out of_ all _my clothes without even waking up. I’m scared, J’onn,*”_ she elaborated. Scared was putting it mildly. She was terrified that this was exactly what it seemed.

She must have been projecting her conclusions too loudly because J’onn replied. _“*Expansion of the bond could be an explanation, but not the only one. Stress or lack of sleep could also cause this sense of distance. How long have the dreams been going on? Have you spoken to the others about them?*”_

 _“*Four nights, and no. You’re the first. Speaking of the others, are they up there with you?*”_ Anyssa asked.

Normally, she wasn’t one to avoid an issue, but for just a little while… As a diversionary tactic, it was weak, but she hoped that J’onn let it slide. For a minute, she thought that he wasn’t, then he said, _“*You tell me.*”_

The groan that emitted from her throat was one part relief, one part exasperation. For the past few weeks, J’onn has been instructing her in the use of her new mental abilities. Regrettably, he is a hard taskmaster and enjoys making her test those abilities, particularly to answer her own questions. Something that was more annoying than helpful, at times. Well, she asked for the distraction, she couldn’t very well complain about it.

Taking a deep breath, she focused on her task. Rather than concentrating on one connection as she was doing to communicate with J’onn, she broadened it to include all the connections. She opened her eyes to see four closed doors. Each door represented one of her bond mates. All the doors were a deep cherry wood. The only distinguishing feature between them was the emblems affixed to the center of each door. 

The first door she decided to try had a jewel-shaped symbol, a diamond to be specific. The symbol was colored red and yellow with an _S_ within it. This door belonged to Superman, the Last Son of Krypton, also known as Clark Kent or Kal-El to those that knew him best. Anyssa twisted the doorknob to find that it was unlocked, which meant that Clark was awake. She peeked in and saw Clark sitting at his desk in his apartment; the bed behind him looking as if it hadn’t been slept in. The strangest thing was watching words fly around the Kryptonian at such a rapid pace, and Clark not taking any notice. ‘He’s probably at home writing an article for the _Planet_ ,’ she concluded. She quickly and quietly closed the door so as not to disturb him.

The second door had a circle-shaped emblem. The emblem was colored red and yellow, the same as the first; however, this insignia was red with a yellow lightning bolt within it. The door led to Flash, one of the fastest men on the planet, better known as Wally West to his friends. She turned the knob, expecting it to be locked since it was so late and, unless it was an emergency, Wally was rarely awake at this hour. The knob completed its turn and Anyssa glanced into the room. The only thing in the room was a bed and Wally laid atop it. The lighting in the room was dim and a dense mist covered the area, which meant only one thing. Wally was asleep and hadn’t bothered to lock the door to his mind. She and J’onn had talked to him about it several times, but he always said it didn’t matter. His logic was that since she and others were the only ones able to get in and since he ‘didn’t have anything to hide’ there was no point in locking up. ‘One of these days, I’m going to peek in and see something I don’t want to see. If that happens, Wally won’t hear the end of it from me,’ she promised herself as she closed Wally’s door behind her.

The third door bore a red, x-shaped crest. This door led to the Martian Manhunter, the last Martian, known simply as J’onn J’onzz. Since she knew where he was and particularly _who_ he was with, Anyssa skipped that door.

The last door bore a simple bat design. The design was colored a basic black. Anyssa turned the knob, half expecting to be locked even though she knew that its occupant was far from slumber. To her surprise, the door was unlocked. She glanced in was greeted by darkness, but considering the occupant it was to be expected. Not seeing the aforementioned occupant, Anyssa stepped further into the room. As she continued forward, her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she could see a lone chair in front of a grey computer screen. The shriek of bats echoed around her.

“What are you doing here this late, Anyssa?” a voice close to her right ear questioned. Startled, she looked behind her to see no one there. Her gaze returned to the chair, which was no longer vacant. The man sitting in the chair wore dark slacks with a dark blue dress shirt, his fingers steepled. There were times when Anyssa still couldn’t believe that the man in front of her was Batman, known to all of Gotham City as Bruce Wayne.

Anyssa put on an innocent smile and said, “Hi, Bruce. What are you up to?”

“Confirming information about a gun shipment coming into Gotham,” he answered. Then he raised an eyebrow and not missing a beat, asked, “Well?”

She shrugged, and replied, “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Or rather her sleep was interrupted,” a voice answered from behind Anyssa. She turned around to see J’onn materializing into the mindscape, something that wasn’t supposed to happen.

Anyssa folded her arms over her chest and gave the Martian her best annoyed look. “You know I hate when you guys do that.”

The ‘that’ was something Anyssa called keyriding. The best explanation was that their link worked as a hub, allowing the others to communicate with each other; however, those channels had to be open or unlocked for the communication to take place. Even if the channel was locked, unless the occupant didn’t want to be disturbed, any of guys could get through by simply asking for permission, essentially knocking. Her access was slightly different. Since she basically _was_ the hub, she could open any of the channels, whether they were locked or not, akin to a skeleton key. Unfortunately, unless she locked the channel behind her, any of other guys could ride in after her. Hence, the term ‘keyriding.’

Though it had the potential to be useful in emergencies, Anyssa hated it because it basically allowed the others to spy, taking away what little privacy they had. Once they had discovered that little quirk of their link and Anyssa’s hatred of it, it became an unspoken agreement to not intrude, though she had caught Wally once (something that he became very repentant for once she was done with him). The fact that J’onn had done it meant that he was more concerned than he’d said.

“I am sorry, gl’ae’da, but I felt that this may need further discussion,” J’onn explained, confirming her assumption.

“What is this really about, you two?” Bruce asked, his stance determined. All Anyssa could do was sigh. _‘Well, there’s no getting around it now,’_ she thought, as she explained her dreams to Bruce.

“And you say that these dreams have been going on for the past four days?” Bruce asked, hand to his chin. She nodded.

The following silence and the thoughtful expression Bruce wore brought a terrible sensation through Anyssa. “You think that it’s happening, that the bond is expanding,” she whispered. Her heart and head dropped. When the five of them agreed to this link, they all hoped that it would be strictly telepathic, but there was also the possibility of it becoming physical. After a month with no change, she had begun to hope that a strong telepathic bond was as far as the link would proceed. J’onn’s reassurances had kept that small hope alive after the last dream, but now looking into the eyes of those serious faces… That hope died and fear was slowly starting to take its place.  The link would have killed her if she hadn’t finished establishing it. Now, if the link has progressed, she would have to follow through on it or she may end up taking four wonderful men with her. Still, Anyssa couldn’t help but ask, “Why?”

Bruce shook his head. “We’re not completely sure if it has or not. J’onn and I have been studying the link, gathering evidence toward its possible extent. Until now, we were only speculating; however, your dreams along with certain _scenarios_ J’onn and I have encountered point in that direction.”

“Though, we need to confirm that the others are having similar experiences before making that conclusion,” J’onn added. Anyssa didn’t know what kind of expression she must have shown, but J’onn’s red eyes soften. “Why don’t we finish this tomorrow? When minds are calmer?” 

“But—”

“I agree. Besides, don’t you have an interview in the morning?” Bruce reminded.

_‘Damn!’_ she thought. That had slipped her mind completely. Looking at the two men, she sighed. “Fine. We’ll have a group meeting tomorrow evening. Let me know what time will be good for you, okay?” Bruce nodded in agreement. She turned, walking toward the darkness that was the entrance to Bruce’s mind. She stopped, remembering something. She turned back, headed for the Martian Manhunter, and took his hand. “You two can gossip some other time,” she said, pulling J’onn with her toward the darkness.

Once out of Bruce’s mind, she bade good night to J’onn and broke the connection. Opening her eyes to the lights of Metropolis, she groaned. Things were coming to a head and as she walked back into her apartment, she wished that her luck would turn. 

Unfortunately, for her, things were about to get worse.

**Chapter 1 End**


	2. A Reporter Gets An Exclusive

Disclaimer: See the first chapter for the disclaimer.

Special Thanks to everyone (you know who you are)for reviewing! Also thanks to everyone who read, but don’t review!

Key:

“Hi” – Speech

_“*Hi*” -_ Speech through Link

_‘Hi’_ \- Thoughts

 

Now, on with the story!

 

**—8—**

**Chapter 2: A Reporter Gets An Exclusive**

**—8—**

 

_‘Wednesdays are always slow news day,’_ Clark thought as he walked out of Perry White’s office. With no new assignments, he walked to his desk to follow-up on the stories he did have.

“Anything new, Smallville?” his partner, Lois Lane, asked. He just raised an eyebrow at that. Lois was renowned for her ability to sniff out a good story, even if she had to scoop her follow reporters (namely him) to get it.

“Nope, just working on a couple of small events. What about you? Anything interesting?” he asked.

Lois just smirked and said, “Nothing for you to worry about, Smallville.” Usually, that was Lois-speak for ‘I’m working on something big and you’re not going to find out what until it hits the presses.’ Well, most people wouldn’t find out until it hit the presses, but ninety percent of the time, he knew exactly what the article was going to feature. That was because his alter ego was always the one to pull Lois’s tail out of the fire.

_‘I better keep an eye on her,’_ he thought. As Lois turned back to her computer, he smile and said, “Whatever you say, Lois. Good luck!”

She looked back up at him and said, “How many times do I have to tell you, Smallville? It’s skill, not luck.” He just shrugged and went back to his work.

**—8—**

Anyssa walked into her apartment, glad to be home. She was equally relieved the interview was over, especially after the restless night she had. She’d just tossed her suit jacket onto the couch and taken off her pumps when she heard her cell phone ringing. Digging it out of her purse, she smiled when she read the caller ID.

“Hi, Janie-girl!”

_“How was the interview?”_ Jane asked, going straight to the point, as usual.

Jane Collins is one of the few friends that she had. The very fact that they were friends was surprised given how different they were. Jane was a tall woman at 5’11 comparably to her own average height of 5’5. Their styles and personalities were often at odds. Jane’s style was all flash and glam, while she liked the flash and glam just fine as long as it was _comfortable_. She’d never forget the time Jane had wore some Jimmy Choo’s while acting as a brides-maid at a friend’s wedding. She’d told Jane not to, but Jane said that ‘if she couldn’t out-dress the bride, she’d definitely have better shoes.’ She had almost laughed herself sick listening to Jane say that she needed to chop her feet off to stop the pain.

With respect to personality, they couldn’t be more dissimilar. She was one to keep to herself while Jane was a party girl, a social butterfly. Jane was also the one dragging her to the clubs to ‘get out of the books and shake it like she meant it’. It was one of Jane’s club-hopping expeditions that led her to current situation with the League and her employment. After spending five unexcused days in orbit with the League, her boss wasn’t that forgiving. Jane, however, was all apologies and vowed never to bug her about clubbing again. As tempting as it was to accept Jane’s promise, she told Jane not to worry about it and that she was looking forward to going back to Blaze since they didn’t get a chance to go in the first time. Jane looked at her as if she was crazy for a moment, then shrugged and went on with the conversation. Their conversation continued, but since that day, Jane has always asked one question: What was the League like? She tried telling her that she didn’t really get a chance to talk to them, but every time Jane would just look at her with that right eyebrow raised and moved on to the next topic. She knew Jane didn’t believe her. Jane never pushed the issue after getting that same answer every time, and that is what made her Anyssa’s best friend.

“Oh, it went okay. The guy seemed to really like my resume,” she said as she worked her stockings from her legs.

_“Excellent, chica! To celebrate, let’s go out to dinner at Pisca’s tonight.”_

“Umm, can you give me a rain-check on that? I’ve got a couple of things I have to handle this evening,” she said, hoping Jane didn’t ask for more details.

There was about 20 seconds of silence, during which she was sure that eyebrow was peaking, then Jane said, _“Sure. Anything I can help with?”_

“Nah, but thanks, Janie. Look, Janie, I’m gonna lay down for a little while. I’ll call you later about that rain-check, okay?”

Something must have been in her voice because Jane asked, _“Are you sure everything’s okay, Nyssa? You don’t sound like yourself…”_ She tried her best to perk up before answering, “Yeah, just had a lousy night of sleep and I want to catch up on it before this evening.”

The two said their goodbyes and she put her cell phone in her purse. She pulled her braids from the ponytail holder and ran her fingers through them. Shedding her suit, she pulled on a simple t-shirt. Sitting on the bed, she looked at the clock on her bedside table.

_12:09 P.M._

_‘I’ll be able to get a few hours of sleep before I have to meet the guys,’_ she thought as she reached over and set the clock. She pulled the covers over herself. She laid her head on the pillow and was asleep within minutes.

**—8—**

_2:20 P.M._

“Hey, Smallville!” Clark looked up from his monitor at the sound of the nickname. Lois has been standing in front of his desk calling him for a while now. “Glad to see that I finally got your attention. What are you working on that’s got you so enraptured?”

Kent looked a little confused, but whether it was her question or something else, she couldn’t say. “It’s just a piece about the local kennel club’s dog show,” he explained.

“Must be some dogs,” she said, derisively. “Anyway, I’m going to Maniette’s for a sandwich. You want anything?”

“Sure. Get me—” The phone rang. “Kent.” She leaned against Kent’s desk, tapping her foot against the floor, impatiently waiting for the call to end. “Yes. Send her up.”

After hanging up the phone, Kent just sat there, looking as confused as when she asked about his article. “Visitor, Kent?” That seemed to snap Clark out of his daze.

“Um, yeah, but I have no idea what she’s doing here.” He got up from his desk and started walking toward the elevators. Curious, she decided to tag along. They were almost to the elevators when their doors opened.

There was only one person in it. A woman. She was young, probably about early twenties. Her dark hair was braid and pulled up into a ponytail at the crown of her head. She wore a blue short-sleeve tee, which went well with her milk chocolate complexion that just barely covered her bellybutton, and low-rise Capri jeans. She may have been Lois’s height, but it was hard to tell with the high-heeled, open-toe sandals the woman wore.  _‘She’s got nice taste. She also looks real familiar...’_ she noted to herself.

The woman stepped off the elevator smiling, eyes only for Smallville. “Clark!” she said as she hugged him. “Nyssa, what are you doing here? I thought that we were going to meet up later,” Clark asked after returning the embrace.

“Well, I thought that if you haven’t eaten yet, we could have a late lunch...” ‘Nyssa’ finally seemed to notice Lois as her eyes shifted to her. “You’re welcome to join us...”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Anyssa, this is my partner Lois Lane. Lois, this is my friend Anyssa Jordan,” Clark introduced.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lois. It’s nice to finally have a face to go with all the stories that Clark has told me about...” The rest of what Anyssa was saying was lost as the name clicked in her mind. She was pretty sure her guess was right on the money, but she had to know for sure.

“Jordan... Aren’t you the lady the League helped a month ago?” she asked, interrupting Anyssa. She barely heard Anyssa say ‘yes’, before turning to Clark and said, “Hey, Kent, why didn’t you tell me that you knew her? Perry was willing to sell his soul and ours for an exclusive with her.”

“Well—”

“I asked him not to,” Anyssa interrupted. “I wanted a little peace after getting attacked like that. He was just looking out for me.”

Anyssa’s stance told Lois a lot. Like she was ready to argue the point further if Lois pushed it. Deciding to remain on friendly terms for now, she said, “Yeah, that sounds like Smallville. Loyal to a fault.” Her words seemed to ease the woman as she gave a small nod.

“Too true. Clark, if we’re going to lunch we’d better get going,” Anyssa stated.

“Um, sure,” he agreed.

“Oh, Lois, you never did answer my invitation earlier. Did you want to join us?” Anyssa asked.

Though the question was put forth with the kindest of smiles, something in the woman’s eyes sent shiver through her. “No, thanks. I’m not really that hungry.”

Clark stared at her, more than a little confused. “But weren’t you about to—”

“Perhaps another time. See ya later, Smallville, Anyssa,” she said, cutting Clark off. With that, she turned and walked back to her desk. Once at her desk, she opened that drawer that she used to store the take-out menus for the places around the Planet. She had just decided on the place when Jimmy came up to her desk, more than likely coming back from dropping off his photos. “Hey, Jimmy. Want something from ‘The Gold Dragon’?”

“Sure, Ms. Lane. I’ll take some shrimp-fried rice.” He looked to the neighboring desk. “Where’s Mr. Kent?”

“A friend of his came by to surprise him with a late lunch,” Lois explained.

“Well, that was nice of them.”

“Yeah…” she agreed as she picked up the phone, but inside she was remembering those eyes. Those eyes belonged to a woman who had found what she wanted and wasn’t going to let anyone or anything stop her from obtaining it. Now, she wasn’t one to bow to intimidation, her various encounters with Lex Luthor evidence of such, but this was one time it was probably best not to go traipsing into dangerous waters.

_‘Now, if it were Superman, yeah, but not Smallville. I wonder if he has any idea what he’s in for...’_ She thought it over for a few seconds, shook her head. _‘Probably not.’_

**—8—**

“Can we make a stop by my apartment first? There’s something that I want to show you,” Anyssa asked, still holding tight to his arm as they exited the ‘Daily Planet’.

“Can’t it wait until this evening? Besides, I thought this was just a quick lunch,” he said, looking down at his companion to see her shake her head.

“Sorry, it can’t wait, but I can promise that once you see it we’ll be on our way,” she responded, smiling up at him.

“All right,” he acquiesced. The walk to Anyssa’s apartment building was short one, especially since it was only three blocks from the ‘Planet’. A fact that was both convenient and odd when he found out. Convenient because if something went wrong Clark would be close enough to help. It was odd for the same reason. After all, out of all the people in Metropolis, the one person linked to him lived close to the ‘Planet’, close to him.

When they entered Anyssa’s apartment, she put her purse down on the table by the door and made her way toward her bedroom. “Have a seat on the couch, Clark. I’ll be right back.”

Before he could say anything, she was already gone, so he went on and sat down. He grabbed one of the magazines off the table, flipped through it for a couple of seconds, and tossed it back onto the table. Sighing, he leaned his head back against the couch, arm resting over his eyes. Something wasn’t right. This whole thing with Anyssa surprising him at work wasn’t like her at all. In fact, since her ‘return’ she’d tried her best distance herself from their alternate egos. It was, according to her, to avoid drawing undue attention on their ‘normal’ lives. So for her to show up at the ‘Planet’ without it being some type of emergency... Something was definitely off, and perhaps it was just his reporter’s curiosity, but he intended to find out what it was.

Since talking to her was unlikely to yield any results, he decided to take an alternate route. Breathing slowly, he opened the door to his link with Anyssa. Following the connection back to its source, he encountered a locked door. The door had no special symbols or anything similar to the doors of his fellow League members, the only thing different about it was that it was painted Anyssa’s favorite color: dark green. The reality that the door was locked wasn’t unanticipated; in fact he expected it, since Anyssa seemed to want to surprise him. He hoped that could catch a glimmer of what was going on in her mind.

The only thing he could feel was heat radiating from the door, not unlike a fever, and that was definitely not normal. _‘I better talk to J’onn. He’ll probably have a better idea on what the heck is going on with her,’_ Clark thought as an uneasy feeling started to settle in his stomach. He was about to call out to J’onn when he heard Anyssa.

“Wake up, Clark. Your surprise is waiting,” she said, her voice teasing. Not wanting to draw her attention to his investigation, he returned to his side of the link. He moved his arm and opened his eyes to see a vision standing before him.

Anyssa was dressed in a lacy, red baby-doll lingerie. The garment lacked a neckline, which helped to show off her ample cleavage. The lace design of the bodice enticed the eye as it both had and revealed the lovely caramel skin beneath it. He eyes traveled upward, taking in the sight of her. Her dark braids, loose and free, fell over her shoulders close to her breast. Smile confident, her eyes sultry, she asked, “Do you like what you see, Clark?”

Her voice snapped him out of the lust-filled haze.  “Anyssa, what in the—” he started, only to have his words stymied by lips pressed firmly to his own and a weight settling on his lap. At first, all he could do was react to those warm lips eagerly moving against his own.  How long they continued like that, he didn’t know, but his senses soon came back to him. He tried to lean back, away from her, to have her follow his motion reclaiming his lips and securing her hold by locking her arms behind his neck.

Unwilling to possibly hurt her in an attempt to pull away, he resorted to the only method of communication left to him. _“*Anyssa! What are you doing?*”_

_“*Don’t you mean what are_ we _doing?*”_ she asked, teasingly.

_“*Let me up,*”_ he demanded. He felt her laughter against his lips as well as though their link.

_“*Why? It’s not like you hate this,*”_ she commented as she pressed herself further into his lap. _“*Besides, we’ve dreamt of this for a long time, Clark. I know you want this to happen, so why do you want to stop?*”_ she asked.

_“*Because...*”_ He stopped because he didn’t know what to say. Since she was pressed against the evidence of his wants, he couldn’t deny that he wanted her. She was right about something else too. He had dreamt of her. They all started the same with kisses and caresses; however, as the dreams progressed, so did their intensity. He and Anyssa were never alone in the dreams, but he never seemed to care about that fact. In fact, in each, he’d taken up a different position surrounding Anyssa. He never saw the faces of the others with him surrounding her, only caring about what he was doing to her.

In one dream, he was just kissing her as the others embraced and stroked her. In another dream, he was massaging her breasts, enjoying the sounds she made as he did so. He handled those dreams well, especially given his minute roles in them. That all changed four nights ago. He and Anyssa were center stage and they had the greatest sex he’d ever had, in either real life or dream. The following morning he vowed not to sleep until he could talk to J’onn.

It was a vow he kept. When Bruce called that morning about the meeting, he was relieved. He hadn’t had a chance to talk to J’onn and this was going to give him the perfect opportunity. Finally, the dreams would stop.

Unfortunately, he must have been broadcasting those thoughts because Anyssa responded to them. _“*We don’t have to stop. We both want this. Have wanted it for a long time. Don’t deny us this, Clark. Please...*”_ He lips left his, leaving a trail of kisses down toward his neck. All he could do was breathe. Breathe through the daze that seemed to spread with every brush of her lips. _“*Please...*”_ her voice pleaded with him.

Her plea tore something in him. Something that was tired of fighting, tired of giving up on the things he wanted because it was the ‘right thing to do.’ Something that only wanted to say...

“Yes,” he moaned aloud as well as through the bond, finally taking what was freely offered.

**—8—**

*Beep-Beep, Beep-Beep*

Anyssa groaned as the sound of an alarm clock interrupted her slumber. Eyes still closed, she reached out toward the direction of the clock only to have her hand glance something or rather somebody. Her eyes snapped open. In the bed beside her laid another body, an obviously _male_ body. She quickly pulled her hand back and tried to take stock of her surroundings. _‘Okay, I’m in my apartment, in my bed. And naked,’_ she thought, her heart racing. Then, the panic began to set in. What had happened? The last thing she truly remembered was going to sleep after her interview that morning. She tried to recall anything that may have led to this, but it was blur. _‘Did this man break in and...?’_ Her stomach rolled at that possibility. She had to get out of here and call the cops.

She started slowly easing out of her bed, careful not to disturb her ‘guest’. She’d almost made it off the bed when the man next to her shifted. She halted, hoping that her actions haven’t woken him. When she felt no further movements, she took a chance, looked back and forgot how to breathe.

_‘Clark?!’_

As if his name were the trigger, she suddenly saw herself in Clark’s lap wearing some red lingerie and kissing him for all she’s worth. As quickly as the flash had come, it was gone. A mix of horror and excitement rushed through her. _‘What the hell was that?’_ she thought as she finished easing herself out of the bed. Not knowing what to do and definitely not ready to try to figure it out now, she went to her dresser, grabbed a short sleeves shirt and a pair of jeans, and rushed to the bathroom. She needed to get her thoughts together and a bath was exactly what the doctor ordered.

&&&

After locking the door and starting the water, she took a couple of deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself, which really didn't help much. Trying to stave off any stray thoughts of what happened in the other room, she set about her normal bath routine of adding bath salts to her water, getting her towels together and pulling her braids up. Once done, she cut the water off and slowly immersed herself into it.

With the warm water settling over her, she finally allowed herself to focus on what must have happened in her bedroom. She decided to backtrack from the moment she got home.  Up until the moment she went to sleep, everything seemed fine. Afterward, the memories weren't so clear. All she got were flashes, memory fragments, with her showering, putting on some clothes, and entering the Daily Planet. None of what she saw explained why she'd gone to the Planet or even why she and Clark came back to her apartment. None of it made any sense, and what she saw next only added to the mystery.

She observed herself modeling a little red lingerie number she'd seen earlier, but had no idea where it came from, in front of a mirror. She watched herself look toward the living room and say, "Clark is going to love this." Watching that predatory smile spread across her face was an eerie experience, to say the least. An experience pushed from eerie to creepy when 'she' looked back at her reflection, leaned in, and say, "Don't worry so much, darling. You're going to have so much fun." From that point forward, the coherency of the memory remnants became almost non-existent. Though from the position she awoke in, it wasn't hard to figure out the rest.

She opened up the bond between her and Clark, hoping to get a sense of how felt about the encounter. Strangely, the emotion closest to the surface was contentment. Strange because content was the last thing she would use to describe what she saw in those broken memory flashes. Regrettably, the mystery of her Swiss-cheesed memory would have to wait. The immediate problem was considerably more troublesome.

How was she going to tell Clark? For the first time in years, at least from what he'd told her, Clark had let his guard down, allowed himself to get close to someone; to trust someone... and he'd done it with a complete stranger. This is going to kill him.

She was still contemplating what to tell Clark when a loud _“*Anyssa!*”_ came across the bond. The call jolted her back into the present. The water had gone cold while she sat there.

Ignoring it for now, she responded, _“*Yes, Wally?*”_ She could hear the sigh through the link. _“*Oh, thank goodness! Are you okay? J'onn and I have been trying to call you for the last fifteen minutes. Bats is about half way to your apartment,*”_ he said.

_“*Why?*”_ she asked.

_“*Have you heard from Sups? We've been trying to reach him for the last couple of hours. The signal from his communicator has him at the Planet, but he isn't answering. We tried to reach him telepathically, but none of us could get through. We kept hitting some type of barrier. Then, I thought that you could give it a try since you're connected directly to us, but got the same thing from you. I really did know what to do then-*”_

_“*Wally!*”_ she exclaimed, stopping his rambling. Their sudden 'disappearance' must have shaken him for him to babble on so. _“*Clark is here with me. We're at my apartment.*”_

_“*Yeah, J'onn just got through to him. He's filling Sups in,*”_ Wally replied. She could feel his panic start to recede as he talked.

_“*I'm glad to hear that, but how you fill_ me _in? Why were you guys looking for Clark?*”_ she asked as she was getting out of the tub.

There was silence across the link and for a moment, she thought she wasn't going to get an answer. The he said, _“*Diana was attacked, Nyssa.*”_

 A League member being attacked wasn’t anything unusual; after all, they were superheroes, but there was something in his voice that put butterflies in her stomach. _“*Is she okay?*”_

_“*She's alive,*”_ he said, but it was what he wasn't saying, what was coming across the bond that mattered. Wally was scared.

_“*How bad is she, Wally?*”_ she asked, already putting on her clothes.

_“*She's pretty bad, Nyssa. She hasn't started healing from her wounds,*”_ he explained. _'Then, it's serious...'_ she thought to herself.

J'onn told her once that the Amazonian magic that gave Diana her abilities healed most of her injuries before they ever got back to the Watchtower. Wally had jokingly said that she was one of J'onn's best patients because he never saw her. She expanded her conversation link, pulling another of her bondmates in. _“*Bruce, how far are you from my apartment?*”_

_“*About five minutes,*”_ Bruce responded.

_“*Um, it’s probably not a good idea for you to come right now, Nyssa,*”_ Wally said, his tone anxious.

_“*Why not?*”_ she questioned as she exited the bathroom, completely clothe. Clark stood in front of the door to her balcony. He’d donned his costume and it seemed that he was ready to leave. On her first step out of the bathroom, he turned toward her.

“Anyssa, Diana—” he started. She held up one finger for him to wait, interrupting him. At his confused expression, she pointed to her temple and mouthed, ‘Wally.’ The confusion left as he realized what she was doing; he nodded agreeing to wait.

Smiling her thanks, she repeated her question. _“*Why shouldn’t I come up there, Wally?*”_ her voice gone cold as she steeled herself for an answer she knew she wasn’t going to like.

_“*Well, Hawkgirl has been pitching a flying fit since she and Lantern brought Diana back to the Watchtower. She was wondering where Sups has been since he wasn’t answering his comm...*”_  

_“*And now she knows,*”_ she finished for him.

_“*Yeah. She’s at the boiling point and seeing you now, Nyssa, may tip her over it. We don’t need that right now,*”_ Wally explained.

_“*Wally, I understand what you mean. I really do, but Diana may be dying, so I don’t give a damn about Shayera’s ruffled feathers. I’ll see you on the roof, Bruce,*”_ she said, cutting the connection before Wally could respond. She brought her attention back to Clark and said, “Bruce is picking me up. Go on ahead. We’ll meet up at the Watchtower.”

She knew the smile going across her face wasn’t true, but she hoped Clark wouldn’t notice. It seemed to work as he nodded his assent. He then reached out for her, pulling her into an embrace. “Diana’s a fighter. She _will_ be okay,” he whispered into her hair. Whether he was trying to convince her or himself, she didn’t know and she couldn’t bring herself to call him on it because she hoped that he was right.

With nothing else to say, Clark let himself out via her balcony moving faster than the eye could see. She grabbed her cell and her keys, closed the door to her apartment, and made her way to the building’s roof. Bruce was waiting for her. She quickly boarded the Javelin and took her seat next to the dark knight.

“He is right. This isn’t a good idea,” he commented as the plane rose from the roof. For a moment, she didn’t know what he was referring to, then it clicked that Bruce was talking about what Flash said earlier.

“I don’t care. Diana’s my friend and I’m going to be there for her,” she stated calmly. “Why are you taking me if this is such a bad idea?”

“You’re an adult.” The silence dragged on, their conversation dead. “Why was Kent with you?” Maybe not. “Unless something required his better half, he should have still been at the _‘Planet’_ ,” he deduced, all the while never looking away from the cockpit window. When she didn’t answer, he continued, “Hawkgirl is not going to let this go. She is going to ask that same question. If this is how you plan to respond, then you’re going to set fire to a volatile situation.”

She’d had enough. “Why Clark was with me is none of her business! Where are you going with this, Bruce?” She had no idea what Bruce was trying to say, but she really wished that he would spell it out for her.

She got what she asked for when he explained. “That’s just it! Whatever happened between you and Kent is not just between you anymore, Anyssa. Diana was attacked in _Metropolis_ , almost killed, and Kent didn’t respond to _any_ calls for help and we don’t know why.”

His words felt like a ton of lead on her chest. For a moment, she couldn’t breathe. This was all her fault. Whatever she’d done to Clark had effectively cut him off from the League, from their bondmates, and because of that, Diana might die. No matter what she said to calm Shayera’s ire, there was still one undeniable truth.

This happened because of her!

**—8—**

The flight to the Watchtower was quiet, though given her company it wasn’t surprising; however, the quiet did nothing to calm her wandering mind. It wasn’t just the big issue of her or rather her mysterious guest in the mirror having sex with Clark plaguing her mind. Why couldn’t any of her bondmates reach her or Clark? Was it her or did her mystery guest block their attempts?

Unfortunately, answers were not too forthcoming. 

A touch on her shoulder broke her reverie.  She removed her seatbelt and followed Bruce off the plane. She and her companion were silent as they exited the hanger, which was fine with her since she didn't want to argue anymore. Besides, Bruce was right. Shayera was going to demand answers and Anyssa didn’t know how she would answer; however, that was a bridge that she’ll either cross or burn when it happened. Now, she has decided to focus entirely on Diana.

Walking into the meeting room, which had apparently become the impromptu waiting room, she wasn’t surprised by the scene. Shayera and John were standing by the window looking out at the Earth below. Neither one seemed to notice Bruce and her enter the room. Clark was leaning against the wall by the left corner of the room, arms crossed over his chest and eyes closed. His face revealed nothing of how he was feeling, but the bond sung to her of his worry. Wally sat in one of the chairs surrounding the table in the center of the room. She sat in the chair beside him. He gave her a weak smile in greeting, and then went back to staring at his hands laying flat on the table. He just sat there quietly, not tapping his feet a mile a second or rambling as he was wont to do when he had to wait. 

“How is Diana?” she asked, reaching for his hand and interlacing his fingers with her own. 

“Pretty much the same. J'onn has been giving updates when he can.” He gave her that same tired smile. “I’m glad you're here, in case...” That smile faded.

“Don't even think it!” she gently admonished. “Diana doesn't need those kind of thoughts now. She’s gonna to be fine.”  He gave her that smile again and nodded. She opened a narrow hole in the shields around her bond to him. It seemed that her words did little to calm the massive amount of fear dominating his emotions; emotions that only new of Diana could soothe. As they sat together awaiting news, she prayed for Diana and prayed that she had not lied to Wally.

**& &&**

The time spent waiting was one of the hardest times of her life. Every minute that went by was another knot in her stomach. From the buzzing of emotion against her barriers, her fellow occupants were feeling the tension as well. _'I can't stand it!'_ she thought as she looked toward the door. She got up and started for the door. _'I need to find out something!'_ She opened the door only to find J'onn standing on the other side, as if magically summoned. The wind behind her told her that Wally had joined her in the entryway. The rest soon gathered behind them. 

"How is Diana, J'onn?" Wally asked, his words coming out so fast she barely caught them.

"She's resting now. Her wounds have started to heal, so I think she's going to make a full recovery," J'onn explained, giving everyone a soft smile. All around her sighs of relief, including her own, were released with even a resounding 'Woo-hoo!' from the speedster beside her. 

She went back to the table, sat down, laid her arms on the table, and laid her head onto her arms. She then left out another sigh of relief along with a few tears. _'Thank God...'_ She was happy that she had not lied to Wally, and that her actions, not matter how uncontrollable, had not killed her friend.

She sat up in the chair and quickly wiped the tear tracks from her cheeks and around her eyes. That is when she felt it, the weight of a gaze on her back. With that knowledge, came the pressure of something else. It was anger; so much anger that it was difficult to imagine it all coming from one individual. Regrettably, it was coming from one person and she knew exactly from whom this oppressive force was originating. 

Steeling herself, she looked over her shoulder and was not surprised at who was scrutinizing her. "You have something on your mind, Shayera?" she asked.

The room went quiet, the inhabitants anticipating an explosion. Shayera did not disappoint.

"You damn right I do. How did this happen?" Shayera whirled behind her and approached Clark. "Where the hell were you when Diana needed?" She felt herself flinch and saw Clark do the same. 

“That's not fair, Hawkgirl. None of us were able to get to Diana in time," Wally tried to reason with Shayera, but the Thanagarian was not to be deterred.

Completely ignoring Wally's peacekeeping attempt, Shayera's eyes never wavered from Clark's and asked, _"Where?"_

"I was with Anyssa and I must have left my comm behind." The ease with which Clark said those words stunned her. Did he not realize the powder keg he had ignited? His gaze shifted to her. _"*Sorry...*"_ came across the bond from him, so apparently he did know.

"You were in Metropolis. So, what? Diana's screams of pain weren't loud enough for you to come running?" Shayera sneered. 

"Hawkgirl, that is unnecessary. This was nothing more than an accident," J'onn said.  

"That's the point, J'onn. This accident should not have happened. Normally, Superman can hear practically anything going on in Metropolis, so I want to know what was going on with Anyssa that he couldn't respond to his teammate's cries!" Shayera demanded.

Clark crossed his arms over his chest, a clearly defensive move, and said, "That is none of your business, Hawkgirl." She could feel herself winch. _'Oh, yeah. We definitely don't have anything to hide.'_

Hawkgirl continued glaring at Clark, and then turned that hard stare her way. For a few seconds, Shayera looked back and forth between her and Clark, then finally settling back on her. She is not sure what she saw in their faces or bodily movements, but those cold eyes widened in shock. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me!"

"Now, Shayera, hang on—" she started. 

"Be quiet!" Shayera commanded and whirled back on Clark. "You mean that Diana almost died because you wanted a nooner with your pet slut!" Shayera shouted. 

As the room gasped their shock at Shayera's revelation, only one thing was going through her min. 

_'I know this bitch did not...'_ The next thing she felt was her right fist connecting with the left side of Shayera's face. She was shocked that the punch actually hurt the Thanagarian. Not only hurt her, but sent her flying through the wall next to the door. _'What the—'_ A searing pain ran through her hand and arm, dropping her to her knees. She heard a roar coming from above her. She looked up to see Shayera, mace raised to strike her down. 

That was the last thing she saw.

End of Chapter 2


	3. Actions and Apologies

Disclaimer: See the first chapter for the disclaimer.

Special Thanks to everyone (you know who you are) for reviewing! Also thanks to everyone who read, but didn't review!

Key:

“Hi” - Speech

 _“_ _*Hi*_ _”_ \- Speech through Link

 _'Hi'_ \- Thoughts

Now, on with the story!

**~8~**

**Chapter 3: Actions and Apologies**

**_“Would 'sorry' have made any difference? Does it ever? It's just a word. One word against a thousand actions.” ― Sarah Ockler, Bittersweet_ **

**~8~**

Everything happened so fast, and for Wally, that is saying something. One second he is flying high, glad that Diana was going to be okay, the next second Shayera's doing some flying of her own through a wall.

“Oh, crap!” he exclaims. He goes to the door to see if Shayera is okay. He opens it and barely manages to get out of the way of Shayera barreling past him, mace held high.

“Hawkgirl, no!” he heard GL call, which Hawkgirl ignored. She raised her mace to strike just as Anyssa appeared to lose consciousness. Wally's feet moved before his mind could process the thought. From one second to the next, he was cradling Anyssa in his arms back near the door, far from Hawkgirl's mace. He jumped when he noticed Batman beside them. “Flash, lay her down,” he instructed. He did as he was told. While Bats checked Anyssa over, he turned back toward the brouhaha.

Hawkgirl was struggling against J'onn, her wings bound to her by his body being wrapped around hers. Sups was trying to pry the nth metal weapon from Hawkgirl's steely grip. GL was smack-dab in the middle. Wally couldn't tell whose side GL was on, but he figured that Sups and J'onn could handle it and wouldn't actually hurt Shayera.

Turning back to pair on the floor beside him, he whispers to the man next to him, “How is she, Bruce?” Those cowled eyes stared at him, hard. Wally could feel himself start to squirm. The five of them had only known each other's real identities for a short time; though _some_ have known a lot longer, they had agreed that they shouldn't get into the habit of calling each other by them while in costume. The use of said secret identity certainly did not make for a happy Batman. Wally met that glare with one of his own. Whatever Bruce saw, he must have decided to let it go for the moment because Bruce said, “Let's get her to Medical. I need to do some scans.”

“Sure...” Wally watched as Bruce removed his cape and quickly tied Anyssa's right arm close to her chest, effectively immobilizing it. _'He probably thinks she broke her arm sending Hawkgirl through the wall.'_ he thought as Bruce lifted Anyssa into his arms. Deciding that Bruce was all right with Anyssa, Wally ran ahead to Medical to prep the scanners and bed. Bruce came in a couple of minutes after him. As Bruce laid her down and began his scans, Wally found his attention drawn to the room's other occupant.

J'onn was right. She did look better. The bruises on her face had begun to fade, black becoming dull green. The skin around the burns running down her arms and on her chest was reclaiming its territory. Soon, the scorched flesh would give way to flawless sun-kissed skin. It wasn't the wounds he could see, but the one that remained unseen that had nearly killed the Amazon. The skull fractures weren't surprising given the blows she must have taken from her assailants. Three of her ribs were cracked, one broken; its edge coming close to puncturing her lung. It was a miracle Diana survived it and Wally was thankful for it.

“How did this happen?” he asked, more to himself than Bruce, so he was a little surprised when his team-mate responded.

“You're going to have to be more specific. The last twenty-four hours have been busy,” Bruce said, never looking up from the hand-held scanner.

“If you have any ideas about any of it, I would love to hear them,” Wally admitted.

“The Link has progressed,” the Dark Knight of Gotham revealed.

“What?!” The shock turned the exclamation into high pitched squawk. Wally cleared his throat and said again, more calmly, “What? How can you be sure?”

“I’m not, but there is evidence that supports that theory. Anyssa has been having some very vivid, recurring dreams the past few days. J'onn informed me that he has also had some equally vivid dreams about Anyssa.” Bruce shifted his gaze from the scanner to Wally, and continued, “I suspect that you and Kent have experienced similar dreams as well.”

Wally couldn't stop the flush of red that he knew was blossoming across his cheeks as he remembered the dream from the previous night. _‘_ _Yeah, that was pretty intense,_ _’_ he thought. Shaking his head to clear those images from his mind, Wally asked probably the most dangerous question of them all. “What about you? Have you been getting some _vivid_ dreams?”

A hard, not to mention scary, stare from Bruce was all the answer Wally needed.

“Without speaking with either Anyssa or Kent, I can only guess that the Link overwhelmed her and Kent was the closest of us,” Bruce concluded.

“And Diana?” Wally asked.

“An unfortunate coincidence,” Bruce replied. Wally just stared. It was times like this Wally wondered how this man can be so cold and logical; especially when it wasn't strangers or even criminals he was analyzing, but his teammates and friends. How can he just turn off those emotions? The only answer that came to Wally at those times was that to be Batman, he had to.

“I wouldn't call it that,” a voice whispered from the bed between them. Wally looked down to see Anyssa open her eyes. Bruce pulled the scanner back. “There doesn't seem to be any broken bones. Do you think you can sit up?” Bruce asked.

She gave a slow nod. She began using her left arm to get her upper body in an upright position. She was half-way there when she shifted pressure to her right hand to start pushing herself forward. She cringed at the added weight and her arm just buckled underneath her. Wally managed to catch her before she would have toppled off of the bed and onto the floor. He steadied her and helped her finish sitting up. She gave him a small smile that tugged at something within him. “Thanks.”

“No prob. Not the first time a lady has fallen for me,” Wally flirted, hoping to lighten the mood a little. He managed to get a chuckle at that.

“Oh, I’m sure of that,” she retorted. Something about that rejoinder, or perhaps in her voice, raised goose bumps across his skin and sent a jolt to other places. In fact, it reminded him of — _‘_ _No! No time for that right now,_ _’_ Wally mentally rebuked himself. She seemed to sense Willy's preoccupation and shifted her focus to Bruce. “Is Shayera okay? The last thing I remember was knocking her through a wall...” Her face frowned up as she considered the absurdity of what she was saying. “Wait a sec. Did I really do that? How did I do that? I shouldn't be able to _do_ that!” she exclaimed, the questions continued flying out as the panic set in.

“Anyssa, stop,” Bruce commanded. Once she stopped speaking, he instructed her to take a few breaths to calm herself. After she did what he said, he continued, “Hawkgirl is fine. She even tried to kill you after you punched her through the wall. Yes, you did punch her through a wall. As for the how, I’m not sure. Now, the scans I took of your arm doesn't show any bone damage. I want to make sure that you don't have any nerve damage. Can you touch your fingers to your thumb?” Wally watched as Anyssa did as instructed, albeit with a few winces. “Good.”

As Bruce had Anyssa work his other tests, silence reigned and in that silence Wally's frustration grew. “Is it true?” he asked, the words coming out of his mouth before he realized it.

She averted her eyes from his stare. “So, Hawkgirl was right-” Wally started.

“That harpy doesn't have any idea what she's talking about!” she exclaimed. Wally could see the fire of anger in her eyes. There wasn't any sign of the guilt from a few moments ago. Her eyes widened after a moment, looking shocked by what she had just said. She quickly averted her gaze from him, focusing on what Bruce was doing with her right arm.

Though he and the others had only known her for a month, Wally had never seen her like this; her emotions jumping from calm to erratic. He tried to reach out to her through their connection and found her side locked down, which was surprising since she has never done that before. A slight movement drew his eyes to sheets. Her left fist was clenching the sheets so tightly that her skin had paled from her normal caramel to a milk chocolate. _'She's just as freaked out as the rest of us,'_ he realized. He moved closer to the bed and laid his right hand atop her tight fist. She startled, turning to look down at their hands, then at him. He eased her grip from the sheets, his hand taking their place. At first, her grasp was weak, unsure; but as he continued to hold her hand, he felt her grip strengthen becoming confident.

Wally didn't know how long he stood there with her, but once he was confident that she was grounded he spoke. “I'm going to get J'onn and Sups. I'm sure that we, together, will be able to figure this out. Okay?”

He waited for an agreement from her. Once given, he sent a quick thought to Bruce and sped from the room.

Wally arrived back in the conference room and it seemed that the situation was a much calmer one than the one he and Batman had left. Sups was busy patching the hole made by Anyssa and Hawkgirl with a steel plate and his heat vision. As he passed, Wally couldn't help noticing Hawkgirl's mace hanging from Superman's right arm. Hawkgirl was seated in one of the chairs that surrounded the conference table. J'onn was kneeling in front of her, checking her face. GL stood beside the Martian, not looking happy at all.

“Well, I'm glad World War III had a peaceful resolution,” Wally quips as he walks toward J'onn and Hawkgirl. He crouched down and looks over Hawkgirl's face. Her left cheek was already coloring up into a handsome bruise. There were some scratches and scrapes on the right side of her face and her forehead. _'For someone who went head first into a steel wall, she doesn't look too bad,'_ Wally thought. “Is she okay, J'onn?” he asked.

“I'm fine. I've had worst,” she replied, her voice gruff, evidently still pissed off.

“Oh, okay, sure. J'onn?” he asked, basically ignoring Hawkgirl's self-diagnosis.

“She is fine. Her helmet took the brunt of the hit and she does not seem to have more than some bruising and scratches. A minor miracle considering,” J'onn exclaimed.

“Yeah...” Wally agreed, relieved. _“_ _*Guys, Anyssa_ _’_ _s awake and freaking out. I told her that I_ _’_ _d get you two and we can all discuss what happened. Are you guys good to do that now?*_ _”_ he asked his bond mates.

 _“_ _*Yes.*_ _”_ echoed the two men.

J'onn left first, citing the need to check on Diana. Superman finished the patch job and tossed the nth metal mace to GL. “Don’t give it back to her until Anyssa leaves the Watchtower,” Superman commanded, his tone leaving no room for discussion. When GL nodded his acceptance of the order, Superman left the room with nary a glance or word to the Thanagarian.

Wally, still on his knees, gave the woman a quick hug and said, “I’m glad you’re okay, Sha.” Getting no response, Wally got up from the floor and headed for the door.

“She’s nothing, but trouble,” he heard her call out just before he was about to walk through the door.

“What?”

“I wasn't sure at first…” she continued as if he hadn't spoken. “I thought it was best to keep my distance, wait for her to show her true colors. After a month of watching her, I thought my instincts were wrong, that she was just another innocent in this, but then all of this starts to happen and she is right in the middle of it!”

“She’s just as confused by what happened as the rest of us—”

“And that’s exactly the problem, Wally! She may be as innocent in this as you claim, but she is not blameless. Neither she nor you have any idea what this bond is doing to you all or what the consequences will be. But what really gets me is that none of you seem disturbed about this bond! You've just accepted it and her as if it… she has always been a part of your lives.” she explained.

Wally just stood there a moment, taking in Shayera’s entire tirade. He turned to the room's other occupant, who throughout all of this has been a silent observer. “Do you agree with her?” Wally asked, his head down and voice neutral.

GL looked at Shayera and back at Wally. “I don't agree with the method Hawkgirl used, but she has a valid point. For all we know, this girl has been sent to brainwash all of you, to leave the team in a weaken position and none of you seem concerned, which is just alarming.”

Wally just looked at the both of them in shock. To think that they would just condone this kind of violence against someone that he and the others cared about... it was unbelievable. “But Dr. Fate said-” Wally tried to counter.

“While I respect Fate's abilities, leaving this up to just his judgment would be insane. I believe that separation and observation would be viable option. I could take her to Oa and have the Guardians-” GL said, only to have Wally interrupt him again.

“No. That's not going to happen, at least not any time soon.” They looked at him as if he were crazy for saying that. “I can’t believe that I’m hearing this **_now_**. Anyssa has been tied to us for a month and at the first sign of trouble, **_this_** is the first reaction?! Sha could have killed her!”

“No, I wouldn’t have—” Shayera started.

“I saw the rage in your eyes, Sha, and I still see it now! You weren’t going to hold back on your swing and we all know it!” Wally countered. That outburst just seemed to take something out of him and Shayera had the good grace to look slightly discomfited by Wally’s outburst.  “Look, I understand you guys are worried about us. In your shoes, I probably would be too, but you were right about one thing. **_We don't know anything about this bond!_** We don't know how deep it goes or what would happen we are suddenly 'separated' from Anyssa.

“So, before either of you decide to 'save' us from Anyssa, consider who else you may be sacrificing with her.” Wally left before he could hear the rest of their arguments.

**~8~**

**_Three Minutes Ago: Back in Medical_ **

“Bruce?” she called.

“Hmm?” he murmured as he continued to review the X-Rays he'd taken.

“I don't remember it,” she said, her voiced coming out so soft she wasn't sure he'd heard her.

He moved to one of the lower cabinets and pulled out a small brace. He came back to her bedside, gently positioned her right arm, and began putting the brace on for her. “Hold still. What don't you remember?” he asked.

“Any of it!” she hissed out. Taking a small breath, she continued. “The last thing I remember is setting my alarm for our meeting. The next thing I know I'm waking up next to Clark.”

Bruce finished applying the wrist brace before saying, “I assume that Superman has no idea of your memory loss.”

She shakes her head in the negative, too ashamed to say the words. After all, she was the one that wanted the full disclosure rule between them and she was the one keeping secrets. Though one could say that with everything that has gone on with Diana and Shayera, she hadn't had time to discuss it with Clark. Not really an excuse; after all, what would they need for privacy, when they could just as easily discuss things through a different channel. But how do you tell someone who is a friend that they slept with a stranger that wore her face?

The door opened to admit J'onn and Clark, putting a stop to those thoughts as her nerves started to get the best of her. J'onn went over to Diana, to check her vitals. Clark went with him, getting his first real look at her condition. He was staring so intensely, she guessed that he was using his X-Ray vision. He said something to J'onn, what she could not discern, but the Martian nodded. Clark came over to her bed next. He took her uninjured hand. The smile he gave her did more to further her guilt than to comfort her.

“How are you doing? And I mean besides the obvious. Flash said that you were a little upset,” Clark asked.

“Is that a nice way of say 'on the verge of a panic attack'?” she asked, disparagingly.

He gave her left hand a squeeze. “No, it's a nice way of saying that you were upset and understandably so, given the last twenty-four hours,” he explained. The small smile Clark gave pulled at her. Exactly what it meant, she didn't know but she found herself returning that smile with a small one of her own.

“I'm okay. Well, other than the obvious,” she chuckled as she looked at her right arm. “What about you?”

The look Clark gave her was one she couldn't really interpret and all she could feel from him was a bit of confusion and a lot of relief. Neither of which explained his expression. She was about to ask him if something else was wrong when he shook his head, flashed that country boy smile, and said, “I'm okay too.”

“Good.”

With reassurances given, they both fell into an awkward silence or at least it was awkward from her side. _'I should tell him now,'_ she thought to herself, trying to build some courage to discuss it. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately), Wally chose that moment to arrive.

The speedster came into the room with more of a jog than his normal super-speed pace. He pulled back his mask and ran his hand through his red hair. The move seemed more one of frustration than necessity. “Did I miss anything?” Wally asked.

“Now that you've arrived, we can get started,” Bruce said. He looked to J'onn. “First, what's the status on Wonder Woman and Hawkgirl?”

“Wonder Woman's condition is critical, but stable. She is healing faster now, so I believe that will change within the next hour or so. Hawkgirl suffered some minor bruising and scratches, but she is fine,” J'onn summarized.

Bruce nodded, thanking J'onn for the update. “Good. Now, onto a different matter, I have a theory about what led to this, but I need more information. Superman, Anyssa, I need to know exactly what happened between you.”

She just glared at the Dark Knight, not believing that he had called her out like that when he knew that she didn't recall any of it.

He met her glare with no remorse for his action and she could see the raised eyebrow through the cowl, basically daring her to call him on it. She looked at Clark to find him looking at her, his expression questioning. _'Damn it, Bruce...'_ she thought as she took a deep breath to gather her courage.

“I don't really remember any of that afternoon with you, Clark.”

There was silence all around her at that declaration. She could feel all the eyes in the room focused on her, but the only eyes she was concerned about were those of the man beside her. His gaze held confusion and no small amount of hurt as her words and silence hit home.

_“_ _*Clark, I was going to tell you-*_ _”_

_“_ _*Not now.*_ _”_ he responded, abruptly cutting the connection. She flinched at the intensity of the link shutting down between them. She knew that this would happen and it's not like she didn't deserve it. Still, it hurt.

“Superman, what happened?” Bruce called, bringing the attention back to the conversation. Clark's focus snapped back to Bruce. He stared at him for a moment and then, began describing what happened between him and her.

He started from the minute she arrived at the _Daily Planet_ with an impromptu lunch invitation to awakening in her bed a couple of hours later with news of Wonder Woman's attack. Clark gratuitously left out exact details of what she and he had done together after they left the couch, but the actions he did describe were like a hammer dropping on her stomach. None of this sounded like her at all. Heck, Jane teased her on multiple occasions on how mundane her romantic life was when she did have a boyfriend. Her blatantly strutting around in lingerie was definitely not her style of flirtation and quite frankly embarrassing.

“Well, it sounds like you two had fun,” Wally said, glibly.

“Not funny, Wally. At all,” she said, looking at him sharply.

“Superman, you mentioned an attempt to connect with Anyssa before she came back into the room. What happened?” J'onn asked.

“I wasn't able to get through. Her door was locked and there was a sense of heat from it, like there was a fire on the other side,” Clark answered.

Four pairs of eyes focused on her, looking for answers. Answers she didn't have. She just shook her head, saying nothing.

“J'onn, have you ever experienced any of what Superman described when you made contact with Anyssa?” Bruce asked the team's resident telepath. When the Martian responded in the negative, he continued. “Okay. We'll look into that later. Anyssa, what do you remember about what happened with Hawkgirl?”

“The only things I recall are Shayera calling me... that, a sharp pain shooting through my arm, and waking up in the infirmary,” she explained for what felt like the hundredth time.

“Well, since Anyssa didn't have super-strength before chucking Hawkgirl through a steel wall. Right?” Wally looked to her for confirmation, which she gave. “Then, the Bond has to be the culprit, right? I mean, what else could it be?”

“Yeah, but why now? I mean, we have been connected for a month now and nothing like this has happened before,” she stated.

“True; however, you haven't slept with any of us before now,” Bruce said, bluntly. “That ability could be residual effects from the connection you made to Kent or something permanent.”

 _'Permanent?'_ Her stomach just clenched at the thought. She looked at Clark, who still would not look at her. He has had his strength all of his life, though it has grown as he aged. His body is meant for it, but her? She looked down at her sprained wrist. _‘_ _Will I continue to hurt myself if this power doesn_ _’_ _t go away? What about those around me?_ _’_

“A small test, perhaps?” J'onn moved to stand beside the bed. She slowly sat up, careful of her wrist, and faced J'onn. He held his left hand upright, palm facing right, in a classic arm wrestling position.  “Try to move my arm, gl'ad'ea.”

She grasped his hand in as firm a grip as she could and pushed against his hand, but she was unable to budge his arm. She continued to try for a few more minutes, but nothing.

Wally smiled at her. “I'd say that's a vote for residual side-effect.”

Bruce didn't seem convinced. “We'll try a few more tests later. For now, let's rest. It's been a hard few hours. We'll reconvene in two hours.”

All of the others agreed. Clark made his exit without a look or word to any of the others. Bruce and Wally followed. J'onn walked over to Diana's bedside. She got up from the bed and walked over to Diana's bedside. Her eyes cataloged the visible wounds. A touch her right shoulder startled her out of her reverie. J'onn looked into her eyes and though she didn't feel his presence in her mind, he must have known what she was feeling because he just squeezed her shoulder again and said, “She will be fine, gl'ad'ea, and so will you.”

She just nodded, her hand gripping the bed rail. J'onn left her to her thoughts. Once she was sure J'onn was gone, she leaned as close as she could to Diana's ear without disrupting the equipment and said the words she wanted to say since she arrived at the Watchtower. “I doubt you'll ever forgive me, but I'm so sorry, Diana.”

She straightened and walked out of the room, leaving its single occupant in peace. It would be a while before anyone noticed the bent steel rail left behind with those words.

End of **Chapter 3**!


	4. Tantalizing Night

Disclaimer: See the first chapter for the disclaimer.

Special Thanks to everyone (you know who you are) for reviewing! Also thanks to everyone who read, but didn't review!

Key:

“Hi” - Speech

_“_ _*Hi*_ _”_ \- Speech through Link

_'Hi'_ \- Thoughts

Now, on with the story!

**~8~**

**Chapter 4: Tantalizing Night**

**_“Challenge, and not desire, lies at the heart of seduction.” ― Jean Baudrillard_ **

**~8~**

The sun was just passing the horizon when a young man with carmine hair, dark jeans, and a brown, short-sleeve t-shirt walked into the apartment complex. He didn’t even glance at the elevator as he began his four story climb; and, why would he? After all, he is fastest man on the planet. Okay, okay. He’ll admit it. His Uncle Barry could still run rings around him, but he was still one of the fastest people in the world.

The fourth floor was pretty quiet; but, since there were only two apartments on the floor, it wasn’t too surprising. The first apartment door was just pass the stairway on the right. The elevator was alone on the opposing wall. The second apartment door faced the mouth of the stairway. Wally made his way toward the second unit, grabbed the old, brass door knocker, and banged it hard against the door. “Anyssa! You in there?” he called out. He waited a moment and knocked again. “Anyssa! Anyssa!”

“Oh, be quiet! Can’t you tell the girl’s not home!” cried a stern voice from behind him. He turned to find an older woman, who was more than likely in her mid to late fifties if her salt-n-pepper (though more salt than pepper) hair was anything to go by. Her frown told Wally that her next step was calling Metropolis’ finest.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. Didn’t mean to disturb you, but have you seen Nyssa? I’ve been trying to contact her the last couple of days with no response. I was getting a little worried!” Wally explained, his voice just a hair above stressed. After what happened with the crazy snake people trying to blot out the sun, Wally thought it would be a good time to see how Anyssa was doing. He had tried calling Anyssa, both physically and psychically, to no avail. At first, he had thought that she was just busy with the new job and didn’t have time to talk. Not wanting to raise the alarm in case Nyssa just wanted more time _away_ from them than he’d thought or appear obsessively paranoid to his team-mates, Wally thought a house visit would be the more reasonable option.

He didn’t know if it was his facial expression or concern in his voice, but the frown eased from the woman’s face and her stance become more relaxed. “Well, I saw Anyssa this morning, heading off to work. She seemed fine,” the woman relayed.

“Oh, thank goodness. When I couldn’t get in contact with her, I thought something bad had happened. Thank you so much, Mrs. …”

“Kimble, and it’s no problem at all. Like I said, she seemed fine this morning, though I’m not sure how she does it with how late she’s been getting in. You know, I thought I heard her come in at about four in the morning the last couple of nights...” she shrugged as she continued. “It must be the spirit of youth ‘cause I certainly couldn’t go to work the next morning so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed,” Mrs. Kimble said, chuckling.

He laughed along with the lady, but something about what she’d said peaked his interest. “You say that Nyssa’s been coming _in_ that late for the last couple of nights?”

“Really, she’s been coming in late the last few nights, but last night was the first night this week that she’s come in _that_ late. But you want to know something?” she asked, looking at him eagerly.

“What, Mrs. Kimble?” he replied.

“I’m glad for her. It’s about time that girl started having some fun. She’s a sweet girl, but way too serious to be so young,” she said, with a wistful grin that told him that Mrs. Kimble may have enjoyed some wild times herself back in the day. “Now, be gone with you. I’m sure Anyssa will give you a call when she can.” She then shut the door, promptly ending the conversation.

Wally wanted to believe the older woman’s reassurances; he really did. Besides the creepiness of a nosy neighbor, there was just something not right about the whole thing. Late nights out wasn’t normal for Anyssa and the fact that she has been avoiding everyone in the bond... Yeah, he wasn’t going to let this rest until he saw Anyssa with his own two eyes.

Now, where did he start looking?

~8~

After thinking about it for a minute (literally a minute), Wally decided to narrow his options. _‘Mrs. Kimble said that Nyssa was having fun, so that rules out anything work-related. With the late night homecomings, that leaves three fun filled options: Bowling, Clubs, or Raves. I doubt Nyssa’s the bowling type. With Raves being on the illegal side of things and therefore more of a spontaneous occurrence, that leaves the clubs as the best starting point,’_ Wally concluded, running home to change into something a little more appropriate for the setting.

Twenty minutes later found Wally going into the third club in Metropolis. The place was called _Blaze_. It definitely seemed the hottest spot to be if the line extending around the building was any indication. He sped pass the bouncer, dropping the cover charge on the podium at the front. He made his way to the bar to the right of the dance floor. He could see the DJ working the sound system on the back wall. There was plenty of lighting along the edge surrounding the dance floor. The dance floor was a different sight. The floor was covered in flames of colors ranging from gaslight blue to dark amber orange. Obviously, the flames weren’t real, but a product of holographic equipment. The beat of the music drove the blaze’s rise and fall, at times reaching chest level on him. Another strange feature was that the fire seemed to sway with the dancer’s movement, but that could just be his imagination. Sure, it couldn’t hold a candle to Luminus’ holograms, but it was a cool effect.

He could understand why the club was so popular. The ambient light from the fire gave a bit of mystique to those within its embrace. The dance floor was obviously the main draw to the club, and if he didn’t have something more pressing to do, he would be tempted to join the fun. Unfortunately, that mystique wasn’t going to help him. Normally, the firelight would be of some help, but with a majority of the club patrons crowding the floor navigating it was going to be a challenge.

_‘I’ll try the second floor first. Maybe she’ll be up there and save me from having to fight across that floor,’_ Wally thought wistfully. _‘Though, I don’t know why I get my hopes up. It’s never that easy.’_ He was right. The upper level of the club sported booths where the clientele could take a break from the dancing and enjoy their drinks along with some companionship. The intensity of the music was slightly diminished allowing for conversation between patrons to be possible. He paced past all the booths, all ten of them, within five minutes with no sign of Anyssa.

He hunched over the railing, looking at the bodies writhing on the dance floor. Normally, he wouldn’t mind joining them, losing himself in the rhythm of the music and the press of the bodies, but now wasn’t the time for it. Not with Anyssa still missing. He needed to find her, though why he felt that urge so strongly he couldn’t say, but all of those people below were an obstacle to that task. _‘Damn… I hate doing a search in slo-mo mode,’_ he thought with a resigned sigh. Yeah, he hated it, but it was the best way without causing a commotion and conceivably losing his quarry. Straightening, Wally headed for the stairs. As he was descending, something flashed in his peripheral vision. He stopped midway down the steps, much to the chagrin of those directly behind him.

“Move it, buddy!” one exuberant man called. When Wally did not move the man pushed pass, forcing Wally into the railing facing the dance floor. He scanned the crowd, hoping to see what had caught his attention. It took a moment, with the shifting flames and bodies, but he found it. Or rather, her.

There was Anyssa dancing in the fires. The golden, sequined halter top she wore must have been what had caught his eye, though more eye-catching was the expanse of skin shown. Only two straps, one around her neck and another midway down her back, held the flashy garment to her body, leaving her midriff partially exposed. His eyes traveled down that expanse of naked skin to hips covered in red fabric, a skirt that stopped mid-thigh. Her tone legs seemed to run on forever ending with gold, high-heeled sandals adorning her feet. Altogether, a very alluring outfit and one that had Wally under its spell.

_“*Do you like what you see, Wally?*”_ a voice asked across the bond, one he had not heard in more than a week. His eyes snapped up from their perusal of her form to see those dark honey colored eyes fixed upon him. Those eyes weren’t the only thing grasping Wally’s attention. Like a limb that had fallen asleep, the bond between him and Anyssa tingled and spiked, reopening after a week of silence. It was a relief; he’d missed it. That relief was soon overwhelmed as something electric and strange started to flow across the connection directly from Anyssa.

The connection flared white hot and the edges of Wally’s vision tinged red for a moment before returning to normal. _‘What the heck was that?’_ Wally questioned. Not liking where this may be headed, Wally continued down the stairs, hoping not to lose his target on the crowded dance floor.

He needn’t have worried. Anyssa was very intent on merging her body with her dance partners. Though her body continued to sway, Wally didn’t doubt he had her complete attention, if the feel of eyes following his movements and the emotions coming across the bond were anything to go by. That was something new. Those feelings. They all knew the connection went both ways between Anyssa and the guys, but this was the first time he’d ever had any type of empathic feedback along the bond. A new sensation Wally had no idea how to nor the time to begin to interpret.

He finally came up beside the trio, two of them oblivious to his presence or purpose. “Anyssa! It’s time to go!” Wally shouted at her over the hard beat of the music. Rather than respond, she continued to dance with her companions, who had finally noticed Wally and didn’t appear ready to relinquish their temptress.

_“*You did not answer my question, Wally. Do you like what you see?*”_ she repeated. Before he could reply, she added, _“*Do you dare take what you like?*”_ This time the emotions soared through the link, stronger than before.

“Stop that!” he shouted both verbally and telepathically. He grabbed her arm to start pulling her from the dance floor. A move that wasn’t received too kindly.

Anyssa’s cohorts decided to be chivalrous and remove him from their presence, but their actions were _minutes_ away to Wally. No, what was more pressing was whatever Anyssa was doing to him across their connection. The moment he’d touched her, the heat and feelings he had glanced earlier doubled, and tripled almost to the point of overwhelming Wally. The sensation was bordering on the edge of painful, but Wally was finally able to recognize one of the many emotions pouring into him.

Pure, unrestrained lust; and it was almost strong enough to have him joining their fun.

One thing became abundantly clear: he needed to get them out of there. Now!

_“*We’re leaving.*”_ was all the warning he gave her before pulling her close and speeding away from the club, leaving behind two very confused would-be protectors with no one to protect.

~8~

He was half-way back to Central City when holding her became too much. Before he did something they’d both regret, he stopped along an empty stretch of Interstate 106, putting Anyssa on one side of the two lane highway while he stood on the other side.

He was bent over, his hands on his knees, his breath coming in harsh blows as if he’d ran the globe twenty times over instead of a short jog from Metropolis. Once his lungs eased their pursuit of oxygen, he could hear laughter across the road. He looked over to see Anyssa seemingly dancing to a beat that Wally couldn’t hear.

“Whoo! That was outrageous! Come on, Wally! We should definitely do it again!” she demanded, the smile on her face was one of pure enjoyment. With no response from Wally, she went back to her dancing, smile still on her face. _‘Has she totally lost it or is she high?’_ he wondered since the woman in front of him was nothing like the Anyssa he’d grown to know.

He crossed the street and stood facing her, keeping his distance for fear of a repeat of what had happened at Blaze. “Nyssa?” he called to her, bringing her attention back to the present.

“Yeah, Wally?” she replied. She was smiling, but there didn’t seem to be any truce of the lust he’d felt earlier in her eyes or across the bond. Though, that didn’t mean anything with Anyssa. She could just be blocking him from feeling it like she’d blocked them all week.

“Um, are you all right? You don’t really seem like yourself. I mean, what was that back there?” he asked, hoping to get some kind of rational explanation.

“What are you talking about? Of course, I’m all right!” she said, her eyes closing and body swaying again to a song only she could hear.

Wally was strongly suspecting she had been injected with or ingested some type of drug, which didn’t jive with what he knew about her. “Anyssa!” He grabbed her forearms, stopping her movements and she snapped her eyes open. “What did you take, huh? Is that what made you do what you were doing back there?!”

He watched as the shocked expression on her face transitioned to confusion and finally, whether from what she saw or felt from him, anger. “What are you talking about?!” she exclaimed. “I did not take anything! As for what I was doing, I was finally having some _FUN_! Something I have not been able to do in a long time. Let go of me!” she demanded, shaking his hold on her arms. She backed away from him, obviously not trusting him to not grab her again.

“If it wasn’t drugs, then how do you explain what you were doing back there?” She stared blankly at him, as if waiting for him to continue. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Nyssa.”

“Enlighten me, Wally. What was I doing back there besides enjoying myself?”

“Really? Did you _‘enjoying’ yourself_ include using your power to influence those guys and me? I could feel you doing it! What were you planning to do? Go home with them?” he demanded.

She stared at him for a moment, then angry frown on her face dissolved into full blown laughter as if she had finally gotten the punch line of a joke he was telling her. Her continued laughter did nothing, but further annoy him. He didn’t see what was so damn funny.

Arms crossed over his chest, he decided to wait out her mirth. She finally straighten up and sighed away her last laugh. She mimicked his position, but instead of her arms crossing over her chest, she crossed them under her breast, making it look like she was hugging herself. Whether it was an intentional diversion or unconscious gesture, it did its job and grabbed Wally’s attention. “No one was an unwilling participate on that dance floor. If those guys weren’t already attracted to me, then they wouldn’t have come to me and if they had decided to leave, they could have shaken it off. You did,” she explained.

_‘Yeah, barely,’_ he thought to himself. “That’s only because I knew what was happening, Nyssa! Those guys had no idea you were influencing them,” he argued.

“True, but you know what, Wally? I very much doubt they cared about my little enhancement. They were going to have a great time, which is what we all wanted.” With each word, she drew closer until her breasts were practically pressed against his chest. She stood on tip-toed until her lips were close to his ear and whispered, “If you wanted to take their place so badly, Wally, all you had to do was ask. There’s no reason to be jealous.”

Wally stood transfixed by the heat of her body and the flittering sensation of her lips close to his ear. He could feel his own pulse racing in response to her proximity. It was only when her hardened nipples grazed his chest as she came down off of tip-toe did her words finally register.

He sped backward, putting a good yard between them. “I wasn’t jealous!” he spouted, the protest coming a tad too quick and a pitch too high to his liking. She raised an eyebrow at that, obviously doubting the honesty of that protest. “I wasn’t jealous. I just didn’t like how you were influencing those guys and how they were pawing at you...” Which he realized not only reeked of jealousy, but added a touch of possessive tendencies to the situation. All not really helping his cause. “Um, anyway, not jealous,” he repeated, then decided to switch topics. “I think we need to get you to J’onn. You’re acting really weird. I want to make sure no one slipped you anything.”

“Really? I feel fine. How am I acting ‘weird’?” she asked, her head tilted in the essence of curiosity.

Not quite trusting that innocent look, Wally said, “I could explain it to you now, but I think J’onn will want to hear it too. Let’s wait until we meet up with him. I’d hate to have to repeat myself.”

“Yeah, we definitely would not want that,” she agreed, once again giving him that smile. That smile made Wally feel like a fly caught in a web, knowing that the spider was about to pounce. And pounce she did. Between one blink and the next, she’d crossed the distance he’d put between them. Before he could think to question how, the palm of her right hand was caressing his left cheek. The warmth of her palm seemed to stoke the smothering embers within until that heat became all-encompassing, until all he wanted was to kiss her and keep her for himself.

_“*I do not have a problem with that idea. Your place or mine?*”_ her voice like a breeze fanning the blaze within. Pulling her tight against him, Wally raced away from that deserted highway as if the hounds of Hell itself were behind him.

Seconds later found them back in Metropolis and in front of Anyssa’s apartment door with Anyssa trying to unlock the door. A task that proved difficult with the things Wally was doing to her neck and below her waist. “Stop, Wally!” she said, giggling. “Or I will never get this door opened.” He didn’t really stop his ministrations, but he did ease up enough for Anyssa to finally get the door opened.

Once inside, the pair made short work of their clothes, their mouths barely leaving the other’s skin or lips. When they stumbled onto Anyssa’s bed, Wally was down to his yellow striped boxers and Anyssa was in her gold halter and gold lace panties. Wally laid back against the pillows while Anyssa straddled his hips. He barely restrained his groan as the dampness of her panties pressed down on his hardness. She smiled down at him and shifted her hips down on his fabric clad length, eliciting another moan from him.

_“*Sounds like you are ready for your present, Wally. What do you think?*”_ she asked.

_“*Oh, God, yes!*”_ he exclaimed, his hands moving from where they rested on her thighs to her hips and pulled her down, teasing her with his hardened length. The moan and arching of her back made him smile. He wasn’t the only one ready for this. “Let me see you,” he asked, desire deepening his voice.

Giving a slight nod, she reached back behind her back and undid the strap of cloth that held the halter to her body. She smiled at him as she reached up and started to undo the last piece. Something moved to the right near Anyssa’s head. Before Wally’s lust-filled mind could register that something may be wrong, there was a hissing sound and Anyssa’s eyes closed and she started falling backward, unconscious. She was caught in gray-clad arms before her body could tumble off the bed.

The haze around Wally’s brain started to left as his adrenaline at seeing Batman kicked in. “Bruce?! What are you—” Wally took in the scene around him. “Oh, man. She got me, huh?”

“Obviously. Now, get dressed.”

~8~

Bruce stood against the right wall of Anyssa’s bedroom. It was a typical apartment bedroom. The full bed stood on the wall opposite of the door. The sliding door to the left opened to a balcony that faced a main Metropolis highway and provided a decent view of the city. Between the sliding and bedroom doors, there was a small desk and chair. The desk was a mess of paper and books with just enough space for a laptop. Past the door, there was a chest of drawers with some small knick-knacks on top. On the wall opposite the balcony door, the closet stood open, shoe boxes scattered along the bottom. The bedside table vacant except for a digital alarm clock, a small lamp, and a wooden 5x7 picture frame. The frame held a picture of a family of three in happier times.

The woman on the bed had been unconscious for about forty minutes and was due to awaken soon. After Wally had left, Bruce had put her clothes back on so that they would be on equal footing when they talked. Besides, he didn’t want to embarrass her if Anyssa had snapped out of whatever mental state she had been in. Bruce was really interested in what Anyssa had to say about what was going on, particularly what she’d done at the club and with Wally, specifically what she’d done to him with her abilities. From what he knew, Anyssa’s empathic abilities were mediocre, good enough to know what people around her were feeling, but not strong enough to project or manipulate the feelings of others. Sometime in the last week, that had changed. He highly suspected that the bond was the reason for her abilities expanding, but her radical change in behavior was something he would have to assess for himself, without an overly concerned audience. That’s why he sent Wally back to Central City.

A groan from the bed signaled her awakening. Bruce stepped closer to the bed, but not within her direct line of sight. She started to bring her arms down, but encountered resistance in the form of handcuffs. Her eyes snapped open and looked over her head. She tugged at the restraints a few times and just gave up. Strange since those were just standard handcuffs attached to a wrought-iron headboard and wouldn’t impede anyone with super-strength. _‘Perhaps that ability has faded?’_ he theorized.

“You know, if you wanted to tie me up, Bruce, I would have been more than willing to play,” she pouted up at him. Seeing that he was not buying the innocent act, she lost the pout and settled on a smirk. “Where is Wally?”

“Far from you, at least until we figure out exactly who you are,” he explained.

“Well, that is an easy one to answer. I am Anyssa,” the figure on the bed declared. Bruce couldn’t help the raised eyebrow at that. He walked over to small desk, pulled out the chair, positioned it facing the bed, and sat down. “Tired, Bruce?” she asked.

He decided to answer her question honestly. “After being up for the past three nights, I really don’t have the time nor the inclination to play games with you. That may be Anyssa’s body, but you are not her. Now, before I call the Martian in to tear through whatever hold you have on her, I thought I would give you the chance to tell me why you took her.”

She looked at him, perhaps judging whether his threat was just that or if he was serious. Then, she just gave a small smile. “Go ahead and call J’onn in. He is not going to have much luck ‘tearing through’ my hold because I AM Anyssa,” she stressed.

Bruce just watched her for a moment. She didn’t seem very concerned by his perusal. In fact, her attention shifted from him to the handcuffs holding each wrist to the bed. Taking each chain in hand, she leveraged herself into an upright position with her back against the headboard, her legs tucked crisscrossed under her. She examined the cuffs again and then returned back to him, her eyes glowing with amusement and a bit of anger. _‘Good. Anger may get us some answers,’_ he thought. “What are you planning to do with Anyssa’s body? Seduce all of us? Then, what?” he asked.

She just smiled and suddenly Bruce felt a flash of heat across the bond that seem to spread to all parts of his body. He knew that she was the source of it, and even though he’d been warned, it still took every ounce of his self-control to not join her on the bed. “Did you like that, Bruce?” her voice like sweet honey to him. “All you have to do is un-cuff me and we can engage in a more recreational use of these,” she stated, tugging the cuff against the wrought-iron.

The suggestion pulled at him again, but he refused to let his body move. “No? That is okay. Stay there; I will come to you,” she commanded. Since he was already commanding his body to stay put, her command to stay seated was well received and his muscles relaxed, refusing to obey him. This had his mind going a mile a minute. _‘How? What did she—’_ the thought was abruptly cut off as he watched her pull the ends cuffed to the headboard through the wrought-iron rods, freeing herself.

Bruce tried to get up, but his body had fully accepted her previous ‘suggestion’ and refused to move. He continued to try to force his body to move as she pulled the cuffs from each wrist, removing them completely. Once that was done, she turned to focus on him. She moved slowly toward him, circling him as he sat in the chair, a predator enjoying their prey.

“You know, I was going to save you for last,” she said as she moved about him. “That strong mind and that body are things of beauty and quite intimidating, Bruce.” She traced her fingers down the one side of his neck, going across his chest and back up the other side of his neck. “I know you are proud of that. You should be.” She stopped the inspection and slid into his lap, her fingers skimming down his chest toward his abdomen and back up to caress his cheek. “I did not think I would be strong enough to do this to you without J’onn. You _must_ be exhausted,” she whispered against his lips. With her skirt having ridden up, he could feel the panty coated wetness against him and his body’s involuntary response to it.

Hoping to distract himself from her ministrations, he turned his attention to the problem at hand. _‘What did she need from J’onn?’_ he questioned to himself. The answer came to him as he looked over shoulder at the headboard. _‘His powers...’_ he thought. Not liking what this meant, he tried to reach out to his bond-mates. _“*J’onn! West! Kent! Can any of you hear me?*”_ he shouted across the link, only to be met with a single voice.

_“*I am afraid they are not available at the moment, but do not worry. Dominique will take good care of you.*”_

_“*Dominique, huh? What happened to Anyssa?*”_ Bruce asked.

“I told you. I am Anyssa, just a more relaxed version,” she sighed into his right ear.

_“*An alternate persona. Is the Anyssa persona still there?*”_ he asked.

Her response was to grip his neck so tightly he could feel her nails through the cowl. She forced his head back so that his eyes met hers. Those eyes burned with anger and not a small amount of jealousy. “You are still thinking of her even as I lie against you. My, you are bold,” she said, laughing at his audacity. “I cannot wait to break that boldness. Perhaps, I will make you crawl and beg to satisfy me,” she proposed. Not getting an answer, she continued, “Yes, your little Anyssa is still here, but once I find our Shadow Lord, she will not be of further use. Then, we all will be able to play,” she murmured against his lips before giving them a little lick, which sent shivers through him.

_‘‘Shadow Lord’?’_ he thought to himself. The title brought an inkling of a memory to the forefront, and if he was remembering it correctly, then they were all in danger. Something in the shadows shifted, catching his attention though he did not focus his eyes on it.

“After you and I are done, we are going to call the others one at a time, have a chat, and find Him,” she said, already moving her hands down to start pulling the top of his costume from the pants.

Two green hands grasped her head. After a long minute, her body slumped forward, once again unconscious. Bruce tried to move again and found himself able to do so. He picked her up and laid her back on the bed. “How long will she be out?” he asked J’onn.

“There is no telling. She is strong. Unfortunately, I was only able to lock her down, not pull her out as we planned,” J’onn explained as he moved to stand beside Bruce.

“Based on what she told me, you wouldn’t have been able to. Apparently, she is an alternate persona and a dangerous one, to both Anyssa and us. J’onn, pack her a bag. I’ll meet you on the roof,” he instructed as he headed for the bedroom door. He touches his right ear, where the communicator was embedded in the cowl. “Kent, get Flash and meet us at the Cave,” he ordered.

“If this has anything to do with Anyssa, I’d rather not. Not until I sort through—”

“It’s Darkseid.” He was met with silence as he waited for the Kryptonian to process what he’d said.

“We’ll be there in ten minutes,” Kent said, the line disconnecting suddenly.

Bruce didn’t pause as he exited the apartment and opened the access panel that led to the roof. Once on the roof, which to the casual observer would appear to be deserted, he pressed a button on his utility belt.

The air in front of him gave a brief shimmer revealing a small, black two-seater mini-jet. It was only about one-third the size of the Bat-Wing, but what it didn’t have in size, it made up for in speed. The trip from Gotham to Metropolis took less than fifteen minutes in it; a great thing given how much he has had to travel between the two cities lately.

He had just started the plane when he saw J’onn float through the roof with Anyssa held in both arms, her head resting against his right shoulder in peaceful repose. There was a duffle bag on J’onn’s left shoulder, which Bruce assumed contained some spare clothes and necessities. They didn’t speak as J’onn strapped her in and with the additional rustling Bruce assumed J’onn had found a place for the duffle. J’onn moved back and Bruce was about to lower the canopy when the Martian spoke. “Do you have any idea what we are facing?”

He really didn’t know. True, he had invoked Deseid’s name to light a fire under Clark, but other than the few words uttered by ‘Dominique’, there was no guarantee that Darkseid was involved. All he, they really, could do was handle the task in front of them. “I don’t know, but the first step is to figure out exactly who or what Dominique is.”

With that, the canopy started closing as the mini-jet began its ascent. The Martian started to levitate alongside the plane. Engaging the stealth module, Bruce set the course for Gotham. While he plotted the familiar course, his mind was running through scenarios and so far none of them looked good.

No, not good at all.

End of Chapter 4!


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: See the first chapter for the disclaimer.

Special Thanks to everyone (you know who you are) for reviewing! Also thanks to everyone who read, but didn't review!

Key:

“Hi” - Speech

 _“_ _*Hi*_ _”_ \- Speech through Link

'Hi' - Thoughts

Now, on with the story!

**~8~**

**Chapter 5: Unseen Chains Are Hard to Break**

**_“A pessimist sees the difficulty in every opportunity; an optimist sees the opportunity in every difficulty.” –Winston Churchill_ **

**~8~**

It had been a quiet night. Strange since Friday nights seem to signal a need to party and engage in all types of mischief in humans. He had shared his observation with Wally, who only laughed and said that it was only humans letting off some ‘steam’ after the work week. From the context, he gathered it was some type of stress release rather than in the literal sense since it was anatomically impossible for the average human.

Still, the night had started out quiet. That changed when Wally called in about Anyssa. The conversation that Wally had with Anyssa’s neighbor was concerning and they all suspected that the bond may be influencing her behavior. Their first order of business was to find her.

With Clark handling an issue in South America, the three of them came up with a plan. Wally would begin the initial search, going through the clubs in Metropolis and if they needed, expand to those in Gotham. While Wally searched, Bruce would surveil Anyssa’s apartment building, in the off chance she came home before Wally found her. He would stay with Bruce, but his task was to observe the bond for any activity from Anyssa. After Wally left, Bruce revealed more of his plan to him.

The detective did not have much hope in Wally being able to handle Anyssa if he found her, especially if they were right and the Link was influencing her. Bruce tasked him with not just monitoring the bond, but specifically the pathway between Wally and Anyssa. If he noticed any activity, he was to inform Bruce and the detective would track them down and investigate. While Bruce investigated, they were to maintain mental contact. If that contact was broken for any reason before Bruce rejoined him, he was to wait five minutes, come to them and shut down any acts of _persuasion_ from Anyssa.

Plan formed, he turned his focus inward, narrowing his attention to the Link between Wally and Anyssa. Observing the Link externally was always a strange experience for him. The Link routes between them and Anyssa were heavily shielded, as was Anyssa herself. He knew that Anyssa viewed the bonds to her as a hub and in a way she was right. Internally, the bond worked in that fashion, but externally... The best analogy of the bond’s external view that he could come up with to explain it was that of subway tracks hidden deep beneath the surface. There was no way to tell what the ‘trains’ on these tracks carried or, if one was unfamiliar with the system, their destinations. He suspected that it would take a very powerful and determined mind, perhaps even more powerful than his own, to even attempt to break through the shielding and find out. Fortunately, that was not his task tonight. Since he was very familiar with the ‘routes’, he could sense the train’s direction, though not its cargo.

Since the speedster began thirty minutes ago, Wally has been sporadically sending something along the Link to Anyssa with no response. Then, something changed. Anyssa started to respond back along Wally’s route. It was short bursts at first between the two, then silence for about five minutes. He had not been sure if that meant that Wally or Anyssa had cut contact until the route lit up again. This time, the bursts were continuous and coming from both of them.

“Flash has found her,” he reported to his companion. A minute later, he sensed Wally’s close proximity before seeing them enter the apartment building.

“No, Anyssa has him. Flash would have brought her to us, not to her apartment,” Bruce stated. Bruce reached down to his belt and pulled a grapple launcher. There was a slight pop as he shot the line toward Anyssa’s building. “ _*Remember; five minutes.*”_

He nodded and responded with _“*Five minutes.*”_ He watched Bruce swing across and enter through the roof access panel. All through the motions, Bruce maintained a separate mental track without faltering. This time Bruce had chosen to recite from one of Shakespeare’s works, though he wasn’t sure if it was from _King Lear_ or _The Tempest_. The mental discipline of the human never failed to surprise him. Minutes later, he sensed Wally’s departure.

Nearly an hour and 2 Acts later, the mental string stopped and he left his position on the opposite building. At four minutes and fifty seconds, he phased through the wall into Anyssa’s bedroom. The scene that greeted him was certainly a surprise. Bruce was seated in a chair, unrestrained and not resisting as Anyssa began removing the top of his costume. He came up behind her and initiated a direct connection to her mind. He had thought to quickly expel the interloper, but whoever they were had a strong hold on Anyssa’s mind. With his element of surprise gone, the intruder started their retaliation, and if he had been a little less experienced, the psychic scars would have been of a more permanent nature.

Since he could not pull the intruder out, he decided to completely lock down Anyssa’s mind, chaining both entities to the subconscious. How long either mind would remain enchained was something he could not surmise and says as much to Bruce. “She is strong. Unfortunately, I was only able to lock her down, not pull her out as we planned,”

The Dark Knight carried her over to the bed and laid her down. “Based on what she told me, you wouldn’t have been able to. Apparently, she is an alternate persona, a dangerous one, to both Anyssa and us,” he explained. “J’onn, pack her a bag. I’ll meet you on the roof,” he continued, already heading for the bedroom door. He heard Bruce as he ordered Clark to retrieve Wally and convene at the Cave, or Batcave as Wally jokingly called it. It was a joke that Bruce did not appreciate, though he and Clark found to amusing and apropos.

With Bruce gone, he went about his task. He found a small duffle bag in the lower right corner of her closet. He pulled two sets of jean shorts and a pair of black sandals from her closet before heading to the dresser. The dresser drawers yielded some short-sleeved and sleeveless tops and underwear. He packed two sets of sleeveless tops and underwear, though the concept of underwear did not make much sense to him. This was especially true given it was the hot season, when less clothing would be more beneficial. He had raised this point to his teammates. Diana had agreed with him. Wally was too busy laughing at Clark and John as they stumbled through an explanation that made little sense to him or Diana. Bruce ignored them all as usual. Finally, Shayara told him that the garments offered a little mystery and that ‘taking them off can be a lot of fun too.’ No one objected to that statement.

With the clothes gathered, he headed to the bathroom for her toothpaste and toothbrush. Duffle packed, he slung the strap onto his right shoulder, picked Anyssa up bridal-style with her head resting against his left shoulder, and headed for the apartment door. Right before he opened the door, he sensed another mind outside hallway. A deeper probe revealed that Mrs. Kimble was coming to investigate the noises she’d heard, her concern and curiosity rubbing against his mind. Not wanting the older woman to come to the door or call the police, he slipped into her mind. With a quick scan, he gently reinforced the idea that she was just hearing things and that she must have been more tired than she realized. Sensing the mind distance itself and the click of a door closing, he monitored her surface thoughts for a few moments to make sure that his suggestion had taken root. Once sure of it, he slipped back out of the older woman’s mind.

Not wanting to trigger the other woman’s suspicions again, he decided to take a more inconspicuous route to the roof. Tightening his hold on Anyssa, he phase-shifted them both and ascended through the living room ceiling to the roof. On the roof, Bruce had his two-seater mini-jet out of stealth-mode, engine running. The canopy open, he sat her in the rear seat of the plane, the small duffle placed in her lap. The question he had poised to Bruce was given an equally solemn answer.

The jet ascended into the night sky with him not far behind it. He followed the plane to the cliffs that border the back end of the Wayne estate, the seas below crashing against the rocky shore. The jet and he hovered as the rock face shifted to reveal the steel doors embedded in the cliff. Those doors opened and he followed the jet into the dark tunnel ahead. There was not much light within the tunnel and he only had the jet in front of him to navigate through the darkness. Thankfully, the tunnel widened into a large cavern.

The jet was slowly descending to the landing pad below when he exited the tunnel. There standing beside the landing pad was Alfred Pennyworth, his back straight and awaiting his charge. He landed a few feet from the butler and solidified his form.

“Good evening, Mister J’onzz,” Alfred said, not surprised by his sudden appearance beside him.

“Good evening to you as well, Alfred,” he replied. He heard a rustle of fabric and there was Bruce next to him with Anyssa in his arms.

“Shall I prepare one of the guest rooms for Miss Anyssa, sir?” Alfred asked as if Bruce bringing home unconscious women was the norm.

“Not yet, Alfred. There’s a duffle for her in the jet. For now, she is going to the Red cage,” Bruce explained.

Whatever this Red cage was, the mention of it was enough to rise the eyebrows of the normally stoic British man. “Understood, sir. Misters Kent and West await you in the main cavern. Shall I escort them to the cage, sir?”

“Yes, Alfred.”

“Very well, sir,” was the only reply given as the butler turned around and walked into the dark recess of the cave.

He followed Bruce into an equally dark recess slightly to the left of where Alfred had gone. As they progressed down the carved pathways, he heard the occasional shriek and the flap of wings, a reminder that they were not the only ones traversing those tunnels. It wasn’t long before Bruce turned off the path into another tunnel that he was certain he would not have seen if not led to it. It wasn’t long after turning off that they came to a holding cell.

The cell’s bar matched the dark rock around and within the cell, but he doubted they were made of the same substance. The opposite wall had a small cot, neatly made up with a small, while pillow and sheet. The right wall had wall-mounted manacles at both shoulder and ankle height. The left wall had an interesting contraption pushed against it. The device was X-shaped with a headrest on the top apex. An adjoining monitor was attached to the wall to the right and about a foot above the device. The top of the X was angled toward the wall with the bottom half angled toward the opposing wall. Each arm of the X had a manacle and the cross section had a belly band, all of them open and ready for prey.

Bruce tapped a pattern to the left of the bars and the bars slid open from the right. Bruce carried Anyssa over to the X apparatus. He set her arms and legs within the manacles and J’onn watched as Bruce pressed a sequence on the side of the machine. The manacles and belly band snapped shut and a dim, red light radiated from between the cuffs and Anyssa’s skin. He looked at Bruce, his brow raised in question.

“A theory,” was the detective’s response.

“Your guests, sir,” a voice called from behind them before he could ask for further clarification.

He turned to see Clark and Wally behind the butler. They both were in uniform, though Wally had his mask pull back to reveal his face. Alfred stood to the side of the opening and gestured for the two to proceed inward.

“You do know that this is seriously creepy, right? I mean, a jail in the depths of a cave? This is the stuff of nightmares and I’m pretty sure this is going to be featured in mine,” Wally stated, voice rushed. It was easy to tell when he finally noticed the tableau in front of him. “What the heck is going on here?! Why do you have Anyssa in that thing? What the heck is that thing, anyway?” the speedster exclaimed.

Clark crossed his arms over his chest, a frown on his face. Bruce ignored them both as he adjusted the monitor to read what J’onn presumed were her vital signs. “They are for her safety as well as ours. After what she did to you and Kent, and what she tried to do to me, this seemed the best solution,” Bruce explained.

“ ‘What she did to me and Wally’? What are you talking about?” Clark questioned, his arms dropping to his sides.

Wally’s cheeks flamed a red that almost matched his hair at Bruce’s remark. Apparently, the speedster had not filled the Kryptonian in on his near seduction with Anyssa, no... Dominique.

“She managed to seduce Wally and she tried to force the issue with me-” Bruce stated only to be interrupted twin exclaims of “What!”

The detective continued on, “But that’s not important right now.” Bruce turned from the monitor and focused on Clark. “Who is Dominique and how is she related to Darkseid?” he demanded.

Clark’s eyes widened in surprise, whether it was the question or Bruce’s sudden focus, J’onn couldn’t know. “Dominique?” Clark repeated. “She’s Darkseid’s top interrogator and Granny’s top Fury, but how do you-” Clark stopped himself, looking between Bruce and the bound Anyssa. “She’s the one controlling Anyssa,” Clark concluded.

It was then that he felt something at the edge of his awareness. He held his hand up to try to forestall further conversation. He focused his attention to what had pinged his consciousness and found himself led back to her, but the thoughts did not belong to the body’s primary host.

Dominique was awake.

“You may as well open your eyes, Dominique. I know you are awake,” he proclaimed.

Though her eyes did not open as he gave the command, a smile slowly start to spread across her lips. “Still poking around in me, huh, J’onn? Did the last time give you a taste for more?” she inquired, those brown eyes opening to focus on him. It stirred a strange, sickening feeling in his stomach to see another staring out at him from the once cheerfully, curious brown eyes of his gl’ad’ea.

“What about our interaction would make you believe I would want to repeat it?” he countered.

All she did was smile in response. She shifted her attention from him to take in the room’s other occupants. “Well, well. This is certainly a surprise.” She looked up to her bound wrists and added, “In more ways than one.” She gave her wrists a few tugs before focusing on Bruce. “What makes you think this attempt at restraints will be more successful than the last?” she asked. Bruce waved his hand in front of himself in a be-my-guest gesture and she started to pull her fisted, right wrist downward. Her smug smile soon fell as she tried the same maneuver a few more times. She finally gave up with a sigh. “Good job, Bruce. You have managed a captive audience for now. Let us see how long you can hold it. What do you want?”

“We want to know what you’re doing here, Dominique. Did scaring Granny’s new orphans in the pits get boring?” Clark jumped in.

She turned her gaze from Bruce to Clark. He watched as her eyes raked over Clark from top to bottom. “Sometimes, but you know orphans were not the only ones scared of me. Lashina was scared of me. So scared I was going to take her precious new toy away. Well, if I had known then what you were like in bed, Kal, she would have had good reason to be scared. In fact, I would have broken her legs and made her watch as I took her toy over and over again,” she stated, as if the cruelty in that statement was as normal as breathing and, he realized, for her it may be. “Tell me, Kal, who was better? Who, in the remembering, sets that Kryptonian blood aflame?”

Clark remained silent, though he had moved his arms to cross over chest once again. Dominique continued to watch Clark. After a few moments, she nodded as if Clark had replied to her lurid inquiry. Though J’onn was paying sharp attention to the bond and did not sense any telepathic communications, he could not be sure of what Anyssa’s empathic abilities were telling Dominique about Clark.

“Why are you controlling Anyssa?” Wally broke in, asking the question they all wanted the answer to.

She looked at them all in turn. “What do I get for answering your questions? I doubt very much that you will release me,” she stated, looking to Bruce.

“Don’t answer them, you tell us we have nothing to gain by keeping you awake,” Bruce replied.

She glanced at him and returned to Bruce. “You think J’onn has what it takes to lock me down and return your precious Anyssa to you? I doubt that,” she argued, her expression smug.

“J’onn is not the one you should worry about. He may or may not be able to stop you, but your little trick from earlier will not work a second time and I am _very_ patient,” Bruce countered.

She remained silent, no longer smug and confident, but not necessarily frightened of the Batman. After a few more minutes of consideration, she must have decided that acquiescence would benefit her more because she answered Wally’s question. “I did not choose this body, but I will have to thank Granny. Her choice was rather fortuitous.”

“How so?” he asked.

“I was tasked with getting close to you and Anyssa, with her delicious body, did all of the work for me!” She gave a small laugh.

“So, you didn’t create the bond between us?” Clark voiced his question.

“Do you not remember, Kal? My specialty lie in using the body to break the mind for our Lord’s -”

“Darkseid was never any ‘Lord’ of mine! He was a monster and he deserved what happened to him!” Clark exclaimed in fury. Though he may not had realized it in his anger, Clark had moved so close to Dominique that their breaths undoubtedly shared the same space. Wally quickly came up on Clark’s left side, grabbed his upper arm and tugged at him to put more space between Dominique and Clark. Whether Wally did that for Clark’s sake or Dominique’s, he could not say, but he was glad for the speedster’s quick thinking.

Once Wally had maneuvered Clark back toward the cell opening and seemed sure that the Kryptonian wasn’t going to try to push forward again, Wally repeated the question, “You’re saying that Anyssa created the bond between us?”

“Yes...” she answered, though clearly something was distracting her. He had barely caught a whisper of “No. It cannot be.” from the woman before she again fixated on Clark. “What did you mean by that? What has become of Lord Darkseid?” she demanded. Clark refused to answer.

“As far as we know, Darkseid died when Brainiac’s asteroid imploded,” Bruce explained.

She was silent, her eyes widened in shock. Those eyes then closed, her head bowed, and her shoulders began trembling. For a moment, he thought that she was crying, mourning the death her god. That is until he heard the giggling, which turned into full blown laughter. “You fools really believe that nonsense?” she asked them after she managed to calm her peals of laughter. Their silence just reignited her glee. “Lord Darkseid is not dead; and, even if he is, it would not be by your or Brainiac’s hand,” she refuted.

Bruce stepped forward, though he was more cautious of possible contact, much more so than Clark had been. “You may consider Darkseid a god, and there is always the possibility that he may have survived.” Clark made some sounds of protest, but Bruce cut him off as he continued, “But the fact remains that _we_ have not seen or heard from Darkseid since that day. If that was the sole purpose of your mission, then you can leave Anyssa and we will not move against Apokolips. I am sure that you would not want the All-Father aware of this breach of the treaty, especially with Darkseid ‘missing’.”

“She won’t just leave, Bruce. She’s an Entozoan,” Clark revealed, though his revelation had little meaning to him.

“What, like an entozoon?” Wally asked,

Clark tilted his head to the side as he considered the comparison. He then nodded and said, “Similar concept. Only instead of feeding off the host’s physical resources, they assimilate the host persona and take the body for themselves.”

Wally’s mouth fell open in horrified silence. Bruce’s lips pressed thin and his eyes narrowed. Clark’s expression was one of disgust and righteous anger. He doubted his expression was any better than Wally’s or Bruce’s. The species type was not a foreign one to him. There were many worlds in the universe and he had heard of other beings with similar parasitic tendencies. Though he had never heard of these Entozoans, Clark’s description did not portray them as a peaceful species.

He shifted his attention back to Dominique. Her jubilance was gone, replaced by an intense stare aimed at Clark. She was definitely not happy and he made sure to double-check the bond to ensure himself that she was not making any attempts to entrap Clark. It seemed that he was not the only one to notice the change in Dominique.

“Kent, do you know how long the assimilation process takes?” Bruce asked. Clark looked at Bruce for a moment, then his eyes widened in some type of realization. “A week. I-I mean, Lash told me that she normally disappears for that long before showing off a new body.”

Suddenly, he understood the mystery piece to the puzzle that was Dominique Bruce and Clark had found and it gave him new hope. He was not the only one to share in that hope as Wally too caught on.

“But, she’s been in Anyssa for over a month...” the speedster uttered.

Finally, Bruce asked the last question they all had, though it came out as more of a statement. “She’s fighting you, isn’t she?”

The blank expression she had previously was replaced by a small smile that sent a chill through him as only the brightest flame could. She looked back to Clark and did not break eye contact as she replied. “It seems that Lashina’s tongue needs a new owner. I will be sure to claim it when we return to Apokolips.”

“Lock her down,” Bruce directed at him. She cried out, “No!” just as he forced his way into her mind, trying to stun her as he had done before. Unfortunately, she was ready for him. She snapped the first tie he placed on her and returned the gesture with barbed whips that hooked painful strips across his psyche. He ignored the strips in favor of adding more chains to her, to force her further into the deepest, darkest part of Anyssa’s mind. She continued to snap them, but she was not fast enough. While it took some time, more than he thought he would need, he finally managed to enchain her to the deepest part of Anyssa’s subconscious.

When he finally came back to himself, Wally was standing beside her, but watching him, waiting for a sign that he had triumphed he supposed. He nodded at Wally, and the red-head began unlocking the restraints. Bruce and Clark were over by the door, speaking low enough that J’onn couldn’t hear. The fact that the pair had not awaited the result of his confrontation with Dominique spoke volumes about their confidence in his abilities; a confidence he was not sure he deserved.

Dominique is a strong opponent in her own right. If she grew to match his speed, or worse full control of Anyssa’s abilities, she would be a force to reckon with. They needed to find a way to get Dominique out of Anyssa. Immediately.

He went over to help Wally, who was surprisingly silent, in his task. That was a phenomenon to J’onn. For as long as he has known Wally West, the speedster has always provided some type of commentary to the events around them. The human’s ongoing silence meant he was reflecting on his own thoughts about their predicament. He has just gotten Anyssa’s legs released from the shackles when Wally spoke. “They’re arguing over what to do with her. Clark wants to actually _give_ her to the Guardians. He thinks they can break the bond.”

Wally unhooked the second cuff on her wrists and started entering the code for the one around her waist. “Bruce thinks we can handle this on our own, that the Guardians could make it worst. Oh, and he thinks that Sups is letting his history with Darkseid cloud his judgement. Totally weird to see Batman taking the optimistic side, let me tell you,” Wally babbled as the speedster caught him up on what he had missed.

In truth, both arguments had merit. The Guardians of Oa were powerful and, with time could possibly unlink them; however, there was no guarantee that the attempt would not kill them all, given the strength of the link between them. He had tried to explain that strength to the others, but none of them could understand without his experience. Each of the pathways between them and Anyssa were so strongly shielded he suspected an attack strong enough to breach the link would echo across the bond with possibly deadly results, for them and their assailant. A true dilemma.

Wally had opened the waist cuff around Anyssa when her body started to list to the right. Wally picked her up, right arm under her knees and the left supporting her back, and carried her to the cot sitting against the rear of the cell. He watched as Wally laid her down gently on the cot, ensuring that her head rested on the small pillow. The red-headed man knelt down beside the cot, gentle as he grabbed up her left wrist and held it within his grasp. A gesture of comfort, though to whom, he could not say.

He turned from one pair and focused on the other.

“-don’t understand! That woman is Darkseid’s chief interrogator. She understands the mind in ways I doubt even J’onn does and you want to risk us and the world on a gamble. What happened to the greater good?” Clark asked, his arms once again crossed over his chest.

“What happened to fighting for those that cannot?” Bruce countered. “If this were anyone beside Darkseid, you would be fighting to do the same, Kent. You’re just afraid-”

“This is her life too!” a voice interrupted from behind him. The speedster had moved to stand beside J’onn. The man to his right wasn’t the usually carefree hero he knew. This man was furious and the ire was directed at the men before them. “I can’t believe we are even doing this. Arguing like we have the right to decide if Anyssa lives or dies. If she is still in there, it is her decision and _only_ hers,” Wally proclaimed. “The only thing we can do is give her the best chance. J’onn.” He turned to face the speedster. “With Dominique locked down, will Anyssa wake up?”

He thought about that for a moment. “If Anyssa is truly resisting Dominique’s assimilation subconsciously as Bruce surmises, then she may awaken within the next eight to twelve hours.” Wally smiled and started to say something when he continued, “However, if the assimilation process has progressed too far, then Anyssa’s body will start to shut down without a mind, without Dominique, to drive it.”

“Then, we wait. If Anyssa doesn’t wake up after twelve hours, we’ll ask GL to contact the Guardians. Agreed?” Wally asked, though his tone suggested it was more of a command than a request.

Bruce looked at Wally with a strange expression, like the speedster had done something completely unexpected. A second more, Bruce nodded and said, “Agreed.”

He readily said, “Agreed.”

The three males turned their gaze to the last member of their quartet. Clark. While they were focused on Clark, the Kryptonian’s focus was entirely on Anyssa. There was a lot of anger there, but his eyes held something else. It was not until he turned his back on all of them, said, “Do whatever you want. I’m heading back to Metropolis,” and walked out of the cell that he realized what he had seen the man’s eyes. Sadness.

“She can stay here. This cell is outfitted with the same emitters as the Crux, so she will be contained,” Bruce stated.

“I will stay and monitor her progress,” J’onn volunteered.

“Are you sure, J’onn? I don’t mind watching her with you. I’ll even take the first shift.” When he continued to stare, Wally started to fidget and quickly added, “It’s just that whatever Dominique was doing to you took a lot out of you. I really don’t mind.” Wally nodded his head toward his upper arm. Looking down, he saw that his bicep was still covered in crisscrossing scratches from Dominique’s barbed whips. Though the scratches were not bleeding, they were open and very red.

Strange, he had not realized that his confrontation with Dominique had left physical marks. He quickly shifted his form back to his standard humanoid form, the scratches gone. He looked back up at Wally. “Thank you, Wally. I believe I will accept your offer.”

“Great! Bruce, you got any-” He stopped when he realized their host had vanished. Wally sighed and shook his head. “How the heck does he do that?!” Wally exclaimed.

He could not help the small smile at Wally’s frustration. “I believe Mr. Pennyworth can help us with whatever we need.”

“So not the point, J’onn” Wally muttered. “All right, let’s go see a man about some chairs.” Wally walked out of the cell, turning right. Seconds later, J’onn saw a blur heading left.

He headed to the entrance at a more moderate pace. Exiting the cell, he turned and slid the bars across the entrance until he heard the lock engage. He took a moment, looking at the cell’s sole occupant. He sent one last thought to her, one thought that echoed the hopes of them all. _“*Be fierce, gl’ad’ea. We are waiting.*”_

**~8~**

For most people, the first thing they notice upon awakening are the sounds around them. The ticking of the bedside clock, the birdsong outside, or the rush hour traffic; none of those greeted _her_ upon awakening. Instead the first thing she noticed was the stiffness of the bed beneath her, or at least she assumed it was a bed.

She slowly opened her eyes to darkness. She blinked her eyes a few times to make sure she wasn’t seeing things. When the room remained the same, she started to take stock of her body. Though nothing seemed out of the ordinary, she slowly moved into an upright position.

She found she was indeed on a small bed and most importantly, alone. She move her body until she was sitting on the edge of the bed with her sandal-clad feet touching the stone floor. As her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, she started to realize something very important.

She had no idea where she was and, if the bars across from her were anything to go by, she was a prisoner. She slid off her sandals and softly walked along the cell wall to the bars. All of this was in hopes that if someone was guarding the door, they wouldn’t notice that she was awake. Edging close enough to the bars, she was able to see an empty chair against the same wall as the cell. Moving to the opposite wall, she saw another empty chair. Thankful that her guards seemed to be away at the moment, she hoped her luck would hold as she lean back against the wall and patted herself down for her cell phone. No such luck, but not totally surprising. _‘They’d have to be pretty dumb to let me have a phone,’_ she thought as she went back to the cot (she refused to think of it as a bed) and slipped her sandals back on.

She sat on the cot, placed her elbows against her knees with her head in her hands. _‘So, no cell phone, but at least I have other ways of calling for help.’_

 _“*Um, guys. I need a little help here,*”_ she broadcasted across the bonds, praying that someone would hear her.

 _“*Anyssa? Is that you?*”_ Wally replied.

 _‘Oh, thank God!’_ she exclaimed to herself. _“*Wally! Of course it’s me! Now, look, I think I have been kidnapped! I’m in this really dark place, either in a cave or underground--*”_

_“*Um, Anyssa--*”_

_“*There are freaking bars on the door! And I think the guards are on break--*”_

_“*Yeah, Anyssa--*”_

_“*Do you think J’onn can track me? I have no idea where I am or who took--*”_

“Anyssa!” This time the voice came from without instead of within, she was sure of it. Her head snapped up to find Wally and J’onn on the other side of the bars. Wally was wearing knee-length, khaki shorts, brown flip-flops and a light blue tank. J’onn had shape-shifted into his human guise. His form was that of a tall, black male with short dark hear. He was wearing a pair of light jeans, tennis shoes and a green short-sleeves top.

Both men were sporting white cups of what she assumed to be coffee. She looked between the two of them in stunned silence for all of two minutes, closed her eyes, took a deep breath, opened her eyes, and said the most logical thing anyone in her position could say.

“WHY THE HELL DID YOU GUYS PUT ME IN HERE?!!”

End Chapter 5


End file.
